


In the Dark

by Coreychick



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: F/M, Porn With Plot, Slow Burn, Watch me make up a bunch of space stuff like i know what I'm talking about, lovers to enemy to lovers, not canon, smut with story, there will be action too
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-18 03:41:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 32,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28985760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coreychick/pseuds/Coreychick
Summary: The Mandalorian Bounty Hunter has unintentionally rescued you from raiders- at least that's what you thought. Now he's agreed to escort you back to civilization. You've got secrets you need to keep and he seems to be carrying one of his own. After a major betrayal, is he your enemy or your lover?
Relationships: Din Djarin/You, Mandalorian/Reader
Comments: 57
Kudos: 104





	1. Found

**Author's Note:**

> I'm old school, I don't like to use a lot of specific tags or warnings because for me, they are spoilers and ruin the anticipation of the story. So, there will be smut, violence and other things that might be triggers for some readers. I will NOT give trigger warnings so if that offends you or you have triggers of any kind, just skip this story. Sorry not sorry.

For the hundredth time in as many hours, you wondered to yourself how many clean breaths you had left in your lungs before this bunker began to fill with a noxious carbon dioxide gas of your own making. As far as deaths go, you could imagine a lot worse. Yeah, slowly drifting off to sleep and just not waking up, well it sucked for sure, but at least you figured it would be painless.

Yes, definitely the way to go, especially considering the other possibilities.

Scenario two, the more likely script you imagined, was starvation. At first you had refused to eat the steady diet of gruel they were determined to feed you, pushing the bowl away every time it was presented to you. You simply could not bring yourself to eat something that was largely still moving around in the bowl. That was, until they stopped bringing food altogether.

After two more days of not eating you decided to bite the bullet. The last bowl of slop had finally stopped moving the day before, meaning that whatever had been swimming around in there was surely dead now, right? Somehow that thought provided little comfort. You had managed to swallow a single spoonful before your stomach rebelled and you ended up heaving whatever it was into the waste bucket they had so generously provided you with. Thank the stars you had been rationing your water and had enough to rinse your mouth out. To die with that foul taste still lingering on your tongue would be it’s own slow torture.

You didn’t think it was actually physically possible to die of boredom, but if it were, it would be a solid contender in the running. Awfully, sadly, your little five by five hole in the ground wasn’t equipped with entertainment. No datapads, no hologames, no screens of any kind. What you wouldn’t give for a book- something, just anything to distract you. Not that you’d be able to read a book though. Aside from your handy-dandy waste bucket in the corner and your untouched food bowl, your current residence was completely devoid of anything- including light.

You were in the dark. A blackness so thick it felt as if it was slowly swallowing you whole. Complete and utter lack of light. You’d scratch a tally on the wall to mark another day in captivity, but you couldn’t see the marks on the walls anyway and without light, you had no sense of how much time was actually passing by in the world above. It could have been days or even weeks at this point. Can a person die from lack of sunlight? You thought maybe they could and wondered how long that might take.

 _Where had they gone? Are they coming back at all? Did they leave me here to die?_ These are your latest thoughts as you wrap your arms around the underside of your thighs- hugging yourself, and lean your head over to rest on your knees. You close your eyes again and try to go to your happy place. You imagine what the sun feels like, when you step out from the cover of a shady tree and the warmth hits your flesh- the way you’d tilt your head up and let the rays soak into your skin. What would it sound like there? Maker, don’t forget the sounds. Cool running water, perhaps a stream nearby…...a wayward breeze fluttering crispy leaves across the ground….a local aves species known for its cheerful song singing a chorus in the branches above… _beep…....beep….….beep._

_Beep……...Beep._

Your eyes flutter back open but fail to focus on anything in the still present darkness. The whisper of a _beep…….beep_ … sound rapidly pulls your drifting mind back into focus. You hold your breath trying harder to listen for the new sound. _Beep……..Beep._ The sound is slowly getting louder and now you can hear that it is accompanied by footsteps. These aren’t the clumsy footsteps you’ve grown used to hearing during your internment. These sound much...heavier? Yes, heavy footfalls with the slightest echo of a metal ting followed by each step. Your mind begins to race. Panic induces. What to do? You fight the urge to yell and scream, “Hey! Help! I’m in here!”. You had tried that several times in the days before and what followed was a prying open of the hatch above followed by an irritated captor jabbing you with an extended electric prod.

No. No. You had to try. You had gone over the plan in your head a million times. The next time they opened the hatch, you’d feign obedience, anything just to have them pull you out. Once you were out of the hole, you’d snatch the prodder out of the nearest raider’s hand and hit him where it hurts, then run like hell. In all honestly you knew it had a .1% chance of working, but you’d rather die putting up a fight above ground than spend another moment in this pit.

The footsteps are heavier now, coming to rest above the hatch. This is it. You get to your feet and prepare to take a stance. You resolve to call out, but...nothing happens. Your voice doesn’t work. You’ve been waiting days for this chance and now the fear has robbed you of breath. No sound escapes you, you’re completely frozen in place. _What if they leave and never come back? This pit is your tomb. You must get out of this hole. This may be your last chance._

Horrified at your own thoughts, you step back, your heel clunking into the food bowl, the sound of it unmistakable to ears above. The being overhead shifts their weight, a dusting of debris falling loose from above and the sound of a rug being dragged back proceeds. The faintest sliver of light peeks through the crack in the floor above. Your heart is racing. _Snap out of it and get ready to spring if he tries to greet you with another one of those fucking prodders._

A click...and you realize you no longer hear the beeping sound. The wail of the creaking hinge makes your heart nearly jump out of your chest as the hatch is thrown back. Blinding light floods in, rendering your sight useless. You hadn’t taken into account your eyes’ inability to focus after such a long period in the dark. You squeeze them shut involuntarily, unable to process the brightness. Hoping you’ll be out of reach from the inevitable prod headed your way, you shrink down into the corner and cover your eyes... waiting for the burning zap of electricity you’ve come to anticipate. It doesn’t come. Slowly, oh so slowly, you squint through splayed fingers, half heartedly shielding you from the eye-piercing light above, and see a suit of Mandalorian armor standing above you.

_________________________________________

So a Mandalorian certainly isn’t what you were expecting. Your eyes, still unable to focus, you slowly lower your hands and it appears you weren’t what he was expecting either. You're apprehensive. He’s massive and intimidating for sure, especially when he is up there and you are down here. He stares at you for a moment, his head tilting slightly as he takes in the scene, then bends down to extend his hand to you.

There’s no prodder in sight and you quickly decide that a scary Mandalorian is much better than an angry raider. After all, the goal here is to get out of the hole and this is your chance. You lock onto his forearm and his grip tightens on yours as he swiftly yanks you up and out of the pit as if you weighed nothing.

_Nothing like the captivity diet to get you back into your pre Life Day pants._

He sets you on your feet and you continue holding on to him for balance. Your equilibrium is off and you’re sure you’ll faceplant if you let go. He seems to understand your predicament and maneuvers you over to a short round bench of some sort. “Sit, get your bearings.” comes a low modulated voice, surprisingly pleasant. You continue to squint, hovering your hands over your forehead like a brim to combat the light sensitivity still plaguing you.

The Mandalorian, seeming to understand once again, walks over to the hallowed out window and pulls the shutters closed. Your eyes can rest a little more with the instant dimming effect. Turning back to face you again, that oddly soothing modulated voice sends a shiver down your back.

“Are you ok?” he asks, removing a small canteen from his belt, untwisting the top and handing it over to you. You eagerly accept, somehow forgetting that the plan was to sprint the second you were out of the Maker forsaken hole. The water isn’t even cold but damn- it’s clean and it feels heavenly coating your dry mouth and throat. You spend full moments gulping down all that you can before coming up for air and gasping. You wipe the lost stream that dribbled down your chin with the back of your hand.

“That depends….where are they?” you ask, wondering where all your robed captors with their prodding guns are.

He only offers a simple one word answer, “dead.”

And all you can offer back is one in return, “good.”

You both take a moment, considering your situation as you remain sitting and he begins pacing. You’ve never seen a Mandalorian before. You have heard the tales of course, myths of the galaxy’s most fearsome men and women. Looking at the one before you, you immediately decide they might actually be true. He is intimidating, scary even with his build and armor. He has weapons strapped all over his body, imposing weapons- you can only imagine what they might do. And his armor looks like it’s seen a great deal of use. Parts of it are painted differently, looking as if it’s been pieced together over time. All of it is dull, dented and chipped in places- he obviously sees a lot of action. Only his helmet appears to have any shine left to it.

You had heard that many Mandalorians took up bounty hunting after the fall of Mandalore. Is this one a hunter? It would make sense. You have no doubt your captors were wanted by someone, somewhere- probably kidnapped the wrong general’s daughter or something. Sitting alone in the dark these past days or weeks- _who knew?_ , you’d often wondered if the raiders that took you were looking for slaves, entertainment or ransoms. You’d smile in contempt laughing on the inside knowing that you’d satisfy none of those objectives for them. You lacked general obedience, you’d die before being a sex slave and there’d be no one out there looking for you, let alone be willing to pay a ransom.

“Are you a bounty hunter?”

“Yes.”

“I hope you found the one you were looking for.”

It takes a beat, but then he responds with “I did.”

Clearly he is a man of few words, which is fine by you. Whoever he is, it seems you currently shared a common enemy, one he seems to have dispatched for you. Looking around the makeshift hut, it dawns on you that your situation is still completely fucked. You’re out of the hole- thank the Maker for that- But you’re still in a heaping pile of a dewback shit situation.

“Look, I dunno where I am, how many of those guys might still be out there, or if more are coming back….I can’t pay you right now, but I would be in your debt if you could get me back to civilization...just wherever the nearest spaceport is.”

He stops his pacing and seems to consider your request.

“I WILL pay you...I’ll get the credits to you as soon as I can.” you continue…”and I won’t get in the way...of your job.”

He remains silent for another moment and you’re suddenly terrified that this guy won't help you and you’ll be on your own to figure out a way out of here. _Where even, is here?_

“How soon do you think you can ride?”

Relief floods your veins. “I’m ready right now, let’s get the fuck out of here.” you say, not bothering with polite speech after the ordeal you’ve just had.

“Wait, did you say ride?”

“Yes, I have a blurrg harnessed in the canyon above.”

 _A blurrg? Maker almighty- he took a blurrg to get out here? Just how far out are you?_ You were unconscious for the duration of the trip and now you’re starting to be glad for it.

“That’s fine,” you say standing up again. This time the world isn’t spinning nearly as much. You go to hand him his canteen back, but he shakes his head no and insists you keep it.

Hand on his blaster, he moves the curtain to peek outside. _“_ We best get moving then.” He takes the lead with cautious steps outside as you exit the door behind him. Again you hear the slightest echo of a ting hitched to every step he takes, only now you know that the sound you were hearing before was the sound of reverberating beskar.

Stepping into the outside daylight burns your sensitive eyes, but the fresh air is much appreciated. Seems like maybe midday if you were to guess.

A few feet off to the left is one of the raiders laying on the ground. His body is lifeless, though he’s still clutching his favorite prodder in his right hand. You don’t miss the opportunity to give his ribs a swift kick as you pass by. Mando just watches silently as you take a moment to offload some serious pent up anger towards the creep. He doesn’t interfere, just let’s you reap your satisfaction which unfortunately comes to an end after about ten kicks or so. On any given day you’d do a lot worse, but the truth is your energy is zapped and you just don’t have the strength. Already the jaunt up the canyon to the waiting bantha sounds like a marathon to you.

“I don’t suppose you spotted a fresher on your way in?” you ask hopefully.

 _“_ There’s a trough around the back.”

“That’ll do, can we spare a moment?”

He nods yes and waits there while you head around to the back. Sure enough there is a trough, just large enough for a blurrg to drink from. Sure the water is stagnant and not at all fit for drinking, but it’s water and out here it may as well be liquid gold. You dip your hands in and slosh the sweet moisture up and down your arms rinsing away the dirt and grime of your ordeal. You wipe at your neck and dutifully douse your underarms as best you can. You save your face for last and decide against wetting your hair. You made a promise to yourself that the first chance you got, you were finding a real bathtub, filling it to the brim with hot water and soaking for a week, maybe two. When you're done, you don’t consider yourself clean by any means, but the worst of it is gone. You only hope for Mando’s sake that that visor of his prevents him from having to smell you, _ugh_.

Finished with your refresh, you take a moment to tilt your head up to the midday sky. You close your still sensitive eyes and bask in the warmth of the sun on your face. The subtle heat warms your cheeks and you smile. _You survived. You did not die in the hole, buried in the dark all alone._ You will never take for granted a single ray of light again.

“We should get moving.” that slow rolling baritone voice says. You nod in agreement and turn to find the Mandalorian who pulled you out of the hole staring down at you.


	2. The Journey Back

CHAPTER 2

The thing about blurrgs is, they weren’t very practical for more than one rider. It didn’t have a saddle per se, but rather a harness that bookended the rider, preventing them from slipping forward or back. At first, you had offered to just walk, but Mando- as you’ve taken to calling him in your head- had assured you that you’d both want to rely on the blurrg to traverse the crevice flats at the top of the canyon. So, he had dutifully cut off the back end of the harness to allow room for you as well. 

You had started off the ride in a fruitless effort to maintain distance between your body and Mando’s. You thought maybe you’d be able to balance yourself without actually having to hold on to anything but quickly found it was impossible. Although the blurrg moved at a smooth pace, the jolt with every step would send you sliding down the backside if you didn’t keep a grasp on the Mandalorian’s waist. You were slightly embarrassed to have to do so until reaching the crevice flats. The landscape ahead was divided into parcels of fifteen to twenty feet with wide gaps between them. You had made the mistake of looking down into one of the gaps as the blurrg nimbly jumped over. What you thought might be a shallow trench was actually a chasm so deep the bottom faded into nothingness. The idea of trying to traverse those gaps on foot instantly made you dizzy. 

Mando must have sensed your apprehension because he grabbed your left hand and pulled it further around, tightening your lock on him. He left his hand over yours and gave it a little pat of reassurance. 

“Don’t look down... it'll be over soon.” he said, and for some reason you found his modulated voice to be comforting. 

He was right, that section of the terrain didn’t last too long and you were thankful when he patted you on the hand again and said, “ You can open your eyes now.” _How did he know I had them squeezed shut the whole time?_

“I wasn’t scared, my eyes are just really sensitive to the light right now.” you offered in a playful tone, trying to ease the awkwardness of the situation. 

“Mmm.” was his modulated response.

You loosened your grip a little and tried to scooch back a bit, again to no avail. Although you were no longer holding on to him for dear life, gravity was not your friend. You tried for several minutes to find a comfortable position, but you were either sliding off the blurrg’s back or sliding down into the Mandalorian. Every step the blurrg took would jostle you forward so that your chest was pressed up against him. You were essentially the big spoon to his little spoon and there was nothing you could do about it. You gave up trying to adjust your position and accepted that this would be your position for the duration of the journey. If Mando was annoyed or put out by the contact, he thankfully didn’t show it.

You decided to make light of the awkward situation. 

“Were you planning to ride all the way back with your bounty like this?” 

“Hmm?” he asked. 

You chuckled lightly, “It’s just...it’s kind of funny you know, picturing you...riding back with one of those guys pressed up against you like this?”

For a moment you thought he might not say anything. Maybe Mandalorians didn’t have a sense of humor. Probably all ‘honor and duty’ all the time. But finally he responded,

“Hmm. Guess I hadn’t thought about it.”

_Interesting._

“Speaking of, don’t you need the body?” you asked curiously, not entirely sure of the ins and outs on bounty hunting. 

He took another moment to answer and you wondered if he always considered what he said so carefully before speaking or if he just wasn’t used to talking to people in general. 

“This quarry needs to be delivered alive, a dead body is no use to me.” 

You thought about that for a moment. The idea that certain bounties _didn’t_ need to be delivered alive was unnerving, having to lug one back with you. And then a part of you felt bad that he had traveled all the way out into the middle of nowhere only to come up empty handed. Hazard of the job you supposed. 

“Then...why did you kill them?” 

“Didn’t.” he said, and that made your eyebrows raise.

“You didn’t?, then who did?” 

“Looked like maybe they killed each other before I got there.” 

Your brain was scrambling. “But why would they do that?”

“Don’t know...wasn’t there.” _ok, so he does have a sense of humor,_ you thought rolling your eyes. 

It did make sense though, why they had stopped checking on you a few days ago, why they stopped bringing food. You thought about what might have happened if the Mandalorian hadn’t showed up and had the instinct to move that rug and open the hatch. Your whole body shivered at the thought. Mando must have felt it with your body pressed up against his back. 

“How’d you end up in there?” He asked, probably guessing where your thoughts had gone too. 

“Bad luck I guess.” you shrugged. “I think they might have followed me, saw I was on my own…..though I’m usually careful, I didn’t think I was being followed...but they must have. Came in during the night, zapped me with one of those paralyzers and I blacked out. When I came to, I was in the hole.” 

“You’re on your own, out here?”

“It’s not that bad, normally I can handle myself just fine, and a lot of the outer rim is actually peaceful, just folks looking for calm you know? This was just...one of those times I guess.”

He didn’t say anything to that.

You supposed now was as good a time as any. You owed this man a thank you for most likely saving your life, even if all he had done was open the hatch. 

“Thank you, by the way. I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t shown up when you did.” 

Again, he didn’t say anything, but for the first time in the hours you had been traveling, he shifted uncomfortably. 

You continued traveling in silence after that.

________________________________________________

  
Several hours had passed and you had entered the mouth of a tight canyon about a quarter mile back. Steep cliffs rise up on both sides making this jaunt a one way road. Mando slows the blurrg down to a cautious speed. His head moves slowly, side to side, up and down. He must be scanning the area, _but for what or who?_ You wonder what capabilities that helmet has. _Probably able to read tracks._

At this slow rate of speed, you once again become blushingly aware of your close proximity. Your breasts are flush against Mando’s back and for some reason, your nipples are achingly aware of it. You silently thank the maker he can't feel them hardening against his back through the many layers he is wearing. Every once in a while the tops of your thighs make contact with the backs of his and you have discovered-purely by accident- that he had a really firm backside. Maybe it was because you haven’t been laid in a really long time or maybe it was because you had almost died and now you are feeling like life is a precious thing not to be wasted, but whatever the reason is, you find yourself thinking about his body. _What does he look like under all that armor? Does he really never take it off? I wonder what a Mandalorian would be like in bed? I wonder what HE would be like…….SNAP OUT OF IT!!!!_ Sighing deeply you try to ignore the heat blooming between your legs, and shake loose where those thoughts were headed. _What’s wrong with me? Why am I having these thoughts now? ....Because you're pressed up against him tighter than a taun taun’s ass in a snowstorm._

You needed a distraction, something to take your mind off of his body and away from your dirty thoughts... and just like that your body obeys...in the most embarrassing way. Your stomach lets out such a loud growl you almost aren’t sure if it was you or the blurrg. _Food! I can eat real food now! Assuming Mando has any on him?_ Maker it has been days since you had last eaten and now that the adrenaline of escaping the hold has worn off, you are starting to feel a bit weak again. You are just about to ask Mando if he has any food on him when he pulls the blurrg to a complete stop. He is still scanning the area, his helmet turns methodically to the side, his gaze follows the wall upward. Slowly, he moves his right hand to his hip and begins to un-holster his blaster. Your heart begins to race wildly at the implication. You want so badly to ask him what is wrong, but think in this moment he’d appreciate your silence more. You try to scan the area, try to detect whatever seems to have disturbed him, but see nothing. 

Suddenly, a shot rings out from above! A flash of light out of the corner of your eye and a deafening _CLANG_ of beskar sounds as Mando takes a direct hit and is knocked off the blurrg and into the canyon wall. 

Panic sets in again, you're frozen, paralyzed in place. You need to do something, anything, but the best your mind can come up with is to duck. _What the fuck are you doing? Your ducking? You’re out in the open, you need to move!_ Mando makes the decision for you. He’s on his feet again firing back shots with his blaster. He turns for a second and leaps up to grab you around the waist, yanking you and his pack down off the animal- the blurrg now a shield between you and the enemy. You squat down covering your ears as blast after blast ricochets off the canyon wall. You look up and see a body fall from the cliff above as Mando hits his target with blaster fire. There must be more than one out there though because Mando continues firing shots. 

“Stay here.” Mando says, pulling his longarm disruptor rifle off the blurrgs harness. He swiftly slides it into his back strap like he’s done it a million times before and walks straight out and into the fray. The blurrg is now bucking wildly, frightened by all the commotion. Finding the courage to get up, you move forward grabbing onto the reins, and try to steady the beast. You move to the side, trying to see what Mando is doing. Several yards ahead of him, a large reptilian bandit- a Trandoshan you think- leaps out from behind a rock face and slams into Mando with it’s vibro-axe. Mando’s blaster goes flying out of his hand and lands a few yards away. 

The Trandoshan lands another hard blow to Mando’s helmet, sending sparks flying as the vibro-axe blade makes contact with the beskar. The Trandoshan continues attacking aggressively, Mando retreats with backward steps as he deflects blow after blow with his metal vambraces. Finally, he catches the axe in the middle of the shaft and uses his strength and leverage to send the bandit ass over head into the mud. Just as you think he’s found the upper hand, two more bandits appear out of nowhere to join the fight. 

It’s three on one and these guys look very capable. You don’t see how Mando can win this...unless you can help? The blaster is out in the open. You can reach it if you move quickly. It’s the blurrg or the blaster, so you drop the reins and run like hell for it. You hear Mando grunt as he takes a particularly hard hit and it spurns you to move even faster. You scurry across the mud and reach out to snatch the blaster up, it’s heavier than you're used to and clearly built for a large hand. With your small hand around the grip, the tip of your finger can barely reach the trigger. You attempt to take aim but they’re all moving so quickly. Mando lands a hard kick to another Trandoshan’s chest and turns to slam the blade end into the third one before the second one even hits the ground. _Maker almighty, he is fast_. It’s two on one now, and he is trading swings with them simultaneously as they charge at him in a united front. They continue trading blows and with Mando in between you and them- you can’t get a clear shot off! One of them slams him hard from the side and it sends the axe flying out of his grip. Before they can land a second blow he has already reached back over his head and pulled the disruptor rifle off of his back. He uses it as a spear to block several blows and takes one of them by surprise with a nasty kick to the leg, successfully putting that one down. He quickly flips a switch igniting the electro mechanism and spears a bandit in the gut with a blast of blue light. He turns to the one already on the ground and fires off another shot- one for good measure. The third Trando takes off at a dead run straight toward you. Ready this time, you step back, blaster arm extended, and take aim. Before you can pull the trigger, the sound of a large _blast_ rings off the canyon walls and the Trando disintegrates to ash before your eyes. 

When the smoke clears, you can see that you and Mando both have your aims set on each other, now that the body you were both aiming for is gone. You take a step back, both lowering your weapons at the same time- you never having got a shot off. Your heart is pounding and both of your chests are heaving-him from the fight and you from the rush of adrenaline. You stay like that for a moment, just staring at each other. You don’t know what he’s thinking but you are in awe. In battle, he is a glorious thing to behold. _The stories are true._ You’d never seen anyone dispatch an enemy so quickly and outnumbered like he was. But instead of feeling safer, you are reminded that he is lethal. He is dangerous. And he is scary. Another shiver runs down your back.

“The blurrg is gone.” he says, only slightly out of breath.

“The blurrg is gone.” You repeat dumbly, your brain still processing what has just happened. 

You say the words again over in your mind and suddenly reality comes crashing through. You whip around to look behind you and he’s right. The blurrg is long gone, probably took off in a fright once you released the reins. 

“Shit! The blurrg is gone!” you say again, confirming what he already knows. You stare off down the canyon in the direction from whence you came knowing that there was no chance of catching it. This was your fault, you should have held onto the animal. Though your intentions were to help, it turns out Mando didn’t need it and now he was out a bounty and a ride. You felt responsible, and pretty awful in that moment. You wait for his anger, a reprimand, an heir of annoyance...some harshness to come. But it doesn’t. 

Mando walks over to scoop up his pack and just says, “Looks like we’re walking from here.”

 _That’s all?_ He holds out his hand to you and you want to take it, want to link fingers with him for some unknown reason, but you realize he is only gesturing for you to hand over his blaster. You turn it around, extending the grip to him. In a fluid motion, he swiftly holsters the weapon to his hip and secures the rifle to his back. _Just another day in the life of a bounty hunter?_

Without a word he starts walking in the direction you were originally headed and you follow close behind. As you pass by the lifeless body of one of the raiders, Mando crushes a small blinking object with his boot.

______________________________________________________________

Blurrgs might be uncomfortable, but walking through the desert after weeks spent in a hole in the ground was worse. Thankfully, Mando had a few gel packs on him, giving you just enough energy to keep up with him . You were grateful he was still helping you and for the food, so you tried not to make too much a show of happiness when he says we could stop for the night. You were camping out in the middle of what looked like old salt flats, nothing but dust and compact terrain. _At least the air is fresh and the skies are clear._

The sun has set and although there is no materials around for a fire, Mando surprises you when he pulls a small collapsible lantern from his pack. He doesn't say a word as you guzzle down another gel pack, manors be damned. It occurs to you that he hasn’t eaten at all today and you realize that that too was because of you. _He can’t eat unless he takes off that helmet._

He removes his shoulder pauldron and pushes up his sleeve, revealing a major gash. “You’re hurt.” you say, realizing that he walked for hours like that.

“It’s not bad.” 

He opens his small pack and takes out a small tool, a cauterizing gun you realize. He stretches open the hole on his sleeve for better access to the wound and starts sealing the gash. The smell of burning skin is enough to make you put down your last gel pack. 

After a moment, he takes a break, his shoulders hunching forward a bit and he sighs. It was probably a struggle to see what he was doing with that visor and all that armor on. 

“Let me help you with that.” He turns to you and seems to consider your offer. To your surprise, he holds out the cauterizer and you grab it as you shift to move closer to him. He seems relieved he won’t have to finish the job, tilting his head up to the sky and takes a deep breath.

You examine the wound carefully. It was a nasty gash- deep too. 

“I take it this sort of thing happens to you a lot?” you ask.

“Part of the job.” he says, looking back down at the wound. 

Around the outside of the cut you can just make out the color of golden skin, proof that there was a warm body underneath all that cold beskar. 

“This would heal better with stitches… do you have a needle and sutures?” He nods yes and opens up his small med pack again. 

You look through the supplies and decide you have everything you need. 

“Bacta spray?” you ask.

“No, don’t waste it. It’s not that bad.”

You nod in agreement deciding that he obviously has a high pain threshold. “This is gonna sting a bit, I’m sorry.” You wince as you swab the area with an antiseptic wipe, but if he feels it, he makes no show of it. You lean in close and slowly blow on the wound, hoping it relieves some of the sting. You’re not sure how you know with his helmet on, but at that moment you can feel his gaze boring down on your face and you can’t help but blush a little.

He watches as you carefully use the alcohol to wipe at your hands, doing your best to keep this a sterile procedure. You prepare the needle and suture. “I’ll be as quick as I can.” He nods again and you proceed with the first stitch. He’s a good patient, he sits perfectly still as you work, even though you know it must hurt like a son of a bitch. One of the best ways to deal with pain is distraction, so you start asking him questions in an attempt to do just that.

“Is it true?...Do you really never take the helmet off?” 

“No.”

You think that’s all he’s going to say on the matter but after a moment he continues, “ I take it off when I’m alone.” 

“So nobody has ever seen your face?” 

“Not since I first put it on, not since I was a child.”

You think about that and it just sounds so sad. You were a loner too, but it was out of necessity, not by choice. And even though you were making your way across the galaxy and careful not to form attachments, you still found you were able to connect to people, even casual passersby. At the market a few weeks back, an elderly lady selling fruit had given you the warmest smile. It was enough to light up your day, to know that she saw you even for a moment. That you mattered somehow, that even though you hadn’t found your purpose in life yet, you still knew in your heart there was one. You of course had returned a warm smile in kind and in that briefest of exchanges you didn’t feel alone. _Does a Mandalorian ever smile? What does HIS smile look like?_ Something in your gut told you it would be devastating. 

“That must be hard for you.” you say, flinching as you push the needle through a particularly deep layer of skin. 

“This is the way.”

Continuing your line of stitches, you decide to change topics and ask him how far of a walk you’ll have to travel tomorrow. It hadn’t really occurred to you to ask where exactly you both were headed until now. At first you were just so happy, so relieved to have escaped, that your only goal was to put miles and miles between you and that dreaded hole in the ground. Now that that had happened, you needed to figure out your next move. 

“We should reach the Crest by late morning.”

“The Crest?”

“My ship, the Razor Crest.” 

“Then?” you ask, pulling closed the last stitch and tying it off. 

“Then...I’m heading for Navarro.” 

“Navarro huh? Never been. You think I’ll be able to catch a ride out of there?” 

“There is a town...and there is a lot of...in and out traffic. The guild has a set up there.”

It didn’t sound ideal. You hoped there’d be more than just bounty hunters traveling through, but at least it was something. With any luck you could catch a ride with a spice runner or something. At least it was something and at least you knew where you were going next. 

“There, all finished.” you say, admiring your work. It wasn’t half bad, and the scar wouldn’t be nearly as bad as it would if he had used the cauterizer instead. You wondered how many scars he had on his body. _He’s probably littered with scars like this._

Mando tilts his visor down to examine the stitches. “Hey, that’s pretty good work…...Thank you.” He offers sincerely. 

You smile, “Yeah, not bad for my first time, huh?” you say sounding overly proud.

“First time? You’ve never done this before?”

“Nope.” you say matter of factly.

He looks back at the stitches and then back to you again. “Then why’d you think you’d know how?” 

“I didn’t,” you say with a chuckle. “But I hem holes in my clothes all the time...and I figured I couldn’t do any worse than that hack job you were doing with the cauterizer.”

He looks at the wound again and lets out a small sound of amusement, “ huh.”

And that brief sound, even modulated as it was sends a warm feeling coursing through your body. You couldn't tell him the truth of course- that you had done it out of guilt. Because the truth was that you probably could have healed the wound completely with a simple touch. Well, maybe not simple. The act of healing flesh was something you had only discovered you could do recently, and turns out it was quite trying on your body. But this was a small wound according to him, just another in a large collection and wasn't fatal in the least. The reward wasn't worth outing yourself over, even if you did owe him a debt for saving your life.. _.twice now_. 

“You should try and get some sleep.” You nod in agreement and try to settle into a comfortable sleeping position- as impossible as that seems on the hard ground. He reaches over to turn the lantern off and your hand shoots out faster than lightspeed to land on top of his.

“Can you…..can you leave it on...just until I fall asleep?” You regret the words as soon as they leave your lips. The mortification of your request- you sound like a youngling, still afraid of the dark. But after spending all that time in the inky blackness of that hole, after going days on end without light, you _are_ afraid of being in the dark again. 

“O.k.” he says, removing his hand. 

“Thank you.” 

Your admission without words seems to make him uncomfortable, so you once again decide to change the subject. You turn over, facing away from him, and resettle your body into a sleeping position- your back now facing him. 

You don’t say ‘goodnight’- something about that just sounds silly. So instead you say, “You should eat….I won’t look...I promise.” and close your eyes.

It doesn’t take long before you drift off to sleep, your body exhausted from it’s trials. You dream of raiders, you dream of running and eventually you dream of darkness. Lost in the blackness, blind even though your eyes are open; but this time you aren’t confined to a hole in the ground. The dark before you is never ending. You can reach your arms out and never make contact with a wall. The depths feel fathomless and that is even scarier than being in the hole. Then a soothing baritone voice whispers something in your ear. You can’t quite make out the words but they are soothing nonetheless. A blanket of warmth and the light scent of leather, beskar and a hint of white smoke envelopes your body. After that you fall into an even deeper sleep, until you dream of nothing at all. 

You wake in the early morning hours, before the sun makes it’s appearance over the horizon and find yourself wrapped in the Mandalorian’s cloak. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've made it this far, thank you for reading. Please drop a comment if you'd like to read more....I'm not really looking for writing critiques, just like to know when someone is enjoying the read- it motivates me to keep going. I've got the whole story in my head, so I'll try to post at least weekly, hopefully more.


	3. When it Rains

It’s chilly out, the sun will start peeking over the hills soon and warm the air and the ground, but right now, baby goose bumps break out all over your skin. You rub your hands up and down along your arms, trying to get a little friction heat going. Mando is still sleeping, his arms bent under the back of his head like a pillow and his legs casually crossed at the ankle. With all the armor on, it’s hard to tell if he is breathing at all. His head and body lie perfectly still. You’d almost think he was dead if it weren’t for the relaxed positioning of his body. You slowly lean in closer to him, trying to see if you can glimpse the rise and fall of his chest.

“Been awake long?” comes his modulated voice, causing you to jump. 

“...Not long, you?” Now you wonder if he was actually awake and watching _you_ watch _him_. _How embarrassing._

“I’ll never tell.” he says with the slightest hint of humor behind it. _Yep, he was definitely awake._

He gets up with a little bit of a groan and gathers what few supplies are out. It doesn’t escape your notice that he left the lantern on all night and you wonder if it was for your benefit or if he fell asleep before remembering to turn it off. You unwrap his cloak from around your body, sorry to have to give it back. You’ll miss the warmth and the smell. You hold it out to him. 

“Thanks for the cloak, it was a lot easier sleeping last night with it.”

Maybe he notices your gooseflesh because he tells you, “Why don’t you hang on to it for a little while longer.”

You smile, “Just until the sun is up then.” You rewrap the cloak around you turning away to sneak a quick inhale as you secure it around your neck. 

“If we head that way, we should reach the Crest in a few hours.” He indicates with a nod of his head. 

“Let’s get to it then.”

\---------------------------------------------------------

The walk this morning isn’t nearly as daunting as yesterday. After a decent night’s sleep and a steady flow of water and energy gel, you’re feeling reenergized. You do your best to keep up though you're certain that you’re slowing Mando down. His strides are easily double yours and you’re sure he has slowed his pace for your benefit. He never says a word about it though and even offers his hand in assistance when you reach a particularly steep climb. 

“Crest should be just over this ridge.” he says, and you feel excited at the prospect of no longer walking and the potential of a padded seat….maybe even dehydrated food. 

As you reach the peak, he drops your hand and stops abruptly. Down the slope at the valley floor sits a gargantuan sandcrawler. Dozens of Jawas are deep into the process of dismantling a ship piece by piece. 

“Holy shit, was that your ship?” and yeah, you say _was_ , because what’s left of it can only be considered scrap metal at this point. Steel parts litter the ground, a trail of breadcrumbs leading into the giant sandcrawler. Entire panels are missing, sparks are sputtering and Jawas are celebrating what must be the best payday they’ve scored in a _long_ time. Mando pulls out his rifle, bypasses the _stun_ setting and goes straight for disintegration. He starts firing off shots, plucking shells from his ammo belt between each shot fired. One...two...three...four Jawas are turned into dust on impact. They scatter quickly, abandoning their endeavor. Mando’s sliding down the hill, yelling what you guess might be obscenities in Mando'a. You quickly follow behind, but the sandcrawler is already on the move, ramp closing before you reach the bottom. Mando takes off at a dead run after them and you're baffled at how he can be so fast with the weight of the armor on him. 

You’re only a few yards behind, not really sure why you’re trying to keep up- it’s not as if _you_ can take on an entire Jawa fortress. You don’t even have a blaster. Mando yells back at you,

“Stay with the ship.” _You don’t have to tell me twice._

You slow down skidding to a stop and watch as Mando sprints even harder. Somehow he catches up with the sandcrawler and leaps onto the side of it just as it passes over the hill and disappears over the other side and out of view. You’ve never heard of anybody infiltrating an entire sandcrawler, especially on their own. It was likely armed with an entire clan of Jawas. _What’s he going to do?_

You turn back to the ship and decide to do a damage check. This beast of a ship looked bad from afar, but up close it’s much worse than you imagined. The Jawas have completely disassembled the ship. The armory is empty, cabinet doors hung ajar. Panels are missing, wires, hoses and belts are hanging precariously from the walls and the ceiling. Embers spark as various systems sputter in and out of power. You see the carbonation chamber and storage container. It gives you the heebie jeebies just thinking about it.

To be frozen in carbonite is probably your worst fear. It would be just like the hole, only you wouldn’t be able to move, frozen in place...in the dark…. but still aware. _Inward shake_ . The storage unit is empty. If Mando had any quarries in there, the Jawas had taken them too. You climb the ladder to the cockpit. The control panel is destroyed, lights flicker in and out. _We’re not flying out of here in this._ You retreat back down to the small space that appears to be Mando’s private quarters. It isn’t much, a small cot only big enough for one. Out of curiosity you pull open the drawer below the cot. It has several clothing items, but nothing you’d consider to be personal effects. The privy isn’t much to look at and appears to be about the only space as yet untouched by the miniature thieves. The cabinet still has a few hygienic items, probably only because Jawas have no use for them. You make a mental note of the bar of soap and decide you’ll become acquainted with it later. Though you’d desperately love a shower, it is highly likely that the Jawas have taken the clean holding tank water. Even if they haven't, attempting to turn on the water with all the power surging was probably a bad idea. 

You’re no mechanic, but repairing the ship, at least to your eyes looks nearly impossible. You try to think of some way you can help the situation, at least until Mando gets back, but there isn’t much you can do. You decide to collect the scattered debris light enough to carry that is strewn around the ship in case any of it can be salvaged. You don’t know what most of the pieces are or where they go, but the few you do figure out, you place nearby it’s intended location. The rest, you sort into piles. After a few hours, the remaining pieces are too heavy to move on your own. You need to find some type of dolly or way to drag them across the ground. With dark clouds rolling in, you abandon that idea and decide that you’ve done all you can for the time being. You sit at the top of the ramp, hugging your knees and watch the horizon until a now familiar armored silhouette appears. 

Mando walks up the ramp, right past you and neither of you says a word. It clearly didn’t go well with the Jawas and he looks a little more worn than when he left. His left vambrace appears damaged, tiny sparks and zapping noises come from it sporadically. You can hear him behind you, taking in all the damage, likely cataloguing the destruction in his mind. He stops at the armory first and seeing it completely empty, he slams the doors in frustration. You give him his space as he continues his inspection. You feel bad for him. There’s no doubt in your mind that this ship was not only his mode of transport, but it was likely his home too. 

He makes his way into the cockpit last. You can hear each engine sputter and die out as he attempts to start them. You cringe as the last one groans and lets out a bellow of smoke. You hear Mando slam his fists down, likely on the console. The sky opens up then and rain begins to fall, hissing as it meets the heat on the engine. _When it rains, it pours._

Thunder sounds off in the distance and the sky lights up with a burst of light every so often. It’s several more minutes before Mando reappears. He takes a seat next to you. What can you even say? _Sorry for your loss?_ Your brain goes another direction though as you watch the rain come down harder.

“You know, you’re much more likely to die of drowning than you are of dehydration in the desert.” It was a silly thing to say in the moment.

He looks out at the landscape. 

“Flash floods?” he asks. 

“Mmm Hmmm.” 

It’s pouring now and the hull of the ship gets increasingly loud with the sound of falling water as the rain makes its way in through gaps in the missing fuselage panels. Mando sighs loudly. 

“I’m really sorry about your ship.” You feel his gaze on you through the visor, though he doesn’t respond. He looks back out at the downfall of rain. 

“Did you….did you pick up all those parts and organize them?” 

You shrug your shoulders in nonchalance. 

“What’s the plan now?” you ask lightly. 

“I’m going to see if I can repair the comm. I know someone, he has an outpost not too far. Hopefully I can get a short-range communication out to him. If not, we’re walking again. Either way... “ he says, indicating the rain with a nod of his head, “we’re stuck here for tonight.” 

You nod your head, happy he at least has a plan. 

“While you’re doing that, I think I’ll take a shower.” 

His helmet turns quickly, obviously surprised.

“A rain shower, I mean. I saw a bar of soap in the fresher, do you mind?” 

He looks back out to the rain.

“Don’t be too long...and stay close to the ship.” he says before climbing back up to the cockpit. 

\--------------------------------------------------------

At the top of the ramp you discard all of your clothing. Soap in hand you scramble down the gangway in search of the perfect spot to bathe. The rain is cold and goosebumps break out all over your body, but the cool water feels deliciously refreshing too. You find a place alongside the ship where the rain is collecting and funneling off the top, creating a solid stream. The water feels exhilarating and the knowledge that you're bathing out in the open- where anyone could see- sends a thrill coursing through your body.

You decide to start with your hair, lathering up the soap in your hands and dispersing it through the tangled mess. You lean your head over, combing the soap through with your fingers as best you can. You decide not to rinse until then end, letting the soap sit there for as long as it can. 

Next you wash your body taking the time to lather up every square inch. The soap has a lovely natural scent to it, warm and spicy with a hint of something floral at the end. You inhale deeply and find yourself wondering if this is what the Mandalorian smells like underneath all that beskar. You work quickly and diligently to clean every nook and cranny, with the exception of your feet. As the water pours off the side of the ship, it’s beginning to form large mud puddles where you stand and there’s nothing you can do to prevent mud on your feet. Done cleaning, you decide it’s time to rinse. You step fully under the stream and relish the feeling as all the dirt and the grime is washed away. You rinse out your hair, pleasantly surprised at how well the soap handled the matting. 

Soap in hand, you make your way back. Alighting on an idea, you grab a bowl like piece of metal from one of the piles you created earlier and bring it into the hull with you. You set the bowl down under a steady stream of water from a leak overhead. The makeshift bowl immediately starts filling with water. You turn back to your discarded pile of clothes and simply cannot stomach the idea of putting the dirty garments back on your freshly scrubbed body. Biting your lip, you decide to borrow one of the shirts you saw in Mando’s quarters earlier. You pad over to his bunk leaving a light trail of dirty footprints along the way. Reaching the drawer you pull out a long sleeved black linen shirt. It’ll do nicely until you can get your clothes washed. 

There’s nothing to dry off with so you just throw the shirt over your head. It clings to you in places as it absorbs the water, but it billows enough that it’s not too bad. The sleeves are long and hang down well below your hands. It takes several maneuvers to roll them up high enough for your hands to get free. The hem of the shirt is long too, and thankfully hangs halfway down your thighs, effectively covering your generous ass. You swipe a pair of clean socks too and make your way back over to the bowl. It’s got a few inches of water in it now, making it perfect to rinse the mud off of your feet. You get the job done and officially feel cleaner than ever. Finding a dry corner to sit in, you put the Mandalorian’s oversized socks on. Again, they are way too large, coming up to just under your knees- but they are clean and warm, which is more than you can say for yours. The shirt is quite loose, but you decide that your belt and boots can still be put back on and that solves the problem. Your belt is made of brown leather, wraps around your waist twice and buckles at the side of the hip, effectively eliminating most of the bagginess. All in all, it’s not too bad.

You scoop up the remaining pile of your dirty clothes and return to the foot bowl. It’ll serve nicely as a wash basin. Using the same soap as you did before, you dunk the clothes in and do your best to clean them. After a lengthy amount of time spent scrubbing and ringing, you hang them up in the empty armory to dry. Hopefully the sun will come back out tomorrow and you can line dry them. You grab Mando’s cloak and head up to the cockpit.

\-----------------------------------------------------------

You expect to find Mando in the pilot’s seat, but instead he’s sitting on the floor casually leaned against the wall. With the helmet on, you can’t read the expression on his face but his body language says _It’s been a day._ You take up the same position on the opposite wall, now facing each other. Despite the destruction of the ship, the cockpit appears to be the only space in the ship not breached by the rain. Everything appears to be dry and with the small space, the shared body heat makes it a little warmer in here. 

“Any luck?” you ask, finger combing your wet hair. 

“I was able to get a comm out, Kuiil will be here tomorrow. He’s going to take us to the Jawas. He thinks we can trade with them to get all my parts back.”

“You think that will work?”

“I don’t have much choice, I have to try.”

He seems much calmer now, so you decide to ask, 

“What happened with the Jawas?”

He waits a beat before answering with a sigh,

“They electrocuted me.” 

You have no idea why, but you can’t help but chuckle a little. The idea of those tiny, annoying little robed runts getting the best of Mando, well it’s just funny.

“Dank Farrik, I hate it when that happens.” you laughingly say. 

He waits a few seconds. 

“Then I fell off the top of the moving fortress.” he adds, and you start laughing even harder. 

You pause for a second to bite your lip, trying not to laugh too hard at his expense...and fail. 

You start laughing again and this time he chuckles with you. The sound of him laughing with you puts a warm spot in your belly...or maybe a little further down. 

“Does your friend have a ship?” you ask, beginning to plait your hair across the top like a headband. 

He waits a few seconds to answer and then replies, “blurrg.” and you lose it. The situation is so ridiculous. A tear of laughter falls from your eye as you down right belly laugh. 

“A blurrg!?! I love riding blurrgs.” you say. It feels good to laugh again, but then you start to blush recalling your ride on the blurrg and how your body had responded to his. 

_It must be the close call with death._ You had heard stories of people getting super horny after funerals and such. It seems so odd, but it kind of makes sense to you now. When you’re happy to be alive, your body wants to celebrate in ways that feel good. You suddenly feel an ache down below, and become aware of a wetness forming between your legs. You shift uncomfortably and change the position of your legs. Mando watches you, but _he can’t possibly know what you're thinking._

You finish plaiting your braid and leave it to hang down on the side of your temple. You leave the rest of your hair to fall naturally and dry on it’s own. 

"How was your shower?" He asks. 

You moan with pleasure, "It was...divine."

He watches you for a moment. “Is that _my_ shirt?”

You look down, having forgotten that you borrowed it without asking. The material clings to your breasts a little too much from being damp and you try to pull on it so it’s not so obvious. 

“I hope you don’t mind. I washed my clothes...just need something until they are dry.” 

You grab his cloak from where you had set it down next to you on the floor and hold it out to him. 

“Hang on to it for another night, it’ll probably get cold in here tonight.”

“Thanks.” you say and spread the cloak out over your legs. 

The sky is dark now and lightning flashes above the glass, temporarily reflecting off of parts of Mando’s armor. You take a moment to appraise it, noting the color and the wear. Though dull and faded now, you’d bet it was once a deep red. 

“Is red your favorite color?” you ask. 

Mando sighs a little.

“Every color signifies something different in Mandalorian armor. Green is for duty...gold is for vengeance.” he pauses. “....Red is to honor a parent.” There is a note of something else in his tone, but you decide not to pry. You know what it’s like to lose a parent- both in fact, and it happens to be your least favorite subject to talk about. You're not fooling yourself here. Mando isn’t your friend and he has shown no intentions of getting to know you on a personal level. _He hasn’t even asked for your name._

You notice the small amount of blue on the top of one shoulder pauldron. _“And blue?”_

“Reliability.” He says, and why does his tone sound like a bedroom voice to your ears?

You shift your legs again trying to ease the ache starting to bloom in your pussy, thankful to have the cloak covering you. _Think about something else._

“Well, I can certainly vouch for that.” 

Now he seems to shift a little uncomfortably as well.

“What’s it like being a bounty hunter?”

“Probably not what you’d think. Most of my time is spent traveling, locating the quarry. Depending on the chain code, you may have to spend a lot of time staking out locations, studying your target’s patterns. The actual acquisition is usually quick.”

“Chain code?” 

“Chain codes are the working profile, age, species, last known locations etc.” 

You nod in understanding. 

“Have you ever not found someone?”

“No.”

“No? Not ever?”

“I’ve had plenty go wrong. Found ones that are already dead or had another hunter locate them first, occasionally they can give me the slip - for a time - or hold up in a location that may take me weeks to crack, but eventually….I WILL find you.” 

You swallow thickly at the certainty in his voice. _I believe it._

His words seem to hang in the air for awhile. _I will find you._

You both sit in a comfortable silence for a time. The glass windshield begins to fog over as rain continues to pour until he says,

“You might want to try and get some rest, Kuiil should be here early.”

“Ok,” you agree before curling up on the floor with his cloak. 

“ ’night Mando.” ….

“Goodnight.” he repeats back to you. 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------

Thankfully, the rain stopped at some point during the night. You were setting your clothes out to dry in the sun while Mando rendezvoused with Kuiil up the road. The two took a few moments, probably going over the plan in private before the Ugnaught appeared to make introductions. You liked him immediately. He was to the point and matter of fact, with everything he said. _He also brought food._

You observe in silence, the entertaining banter between him and Mando as you journey on a sled being pulled behind the Ugnaught and his blurrg. 

By late morning, you find the traveling Sandcrawler and the Jawas. They have pop up tents sent up in a makeshift marketplace, no doubt peddling Mando’s stolen ship parts. His mood shifts quickly at the sight. He is already irritable and becomes even more so when Kuiil suggests that he needs to take off his weapons in order to appear reasonable. 

“I’m a Mandalorian, weapons are my religion.”

_Mando’s walking the Razor’s edge._

With a deep sigh, Mando acquiesces and sets the weapons down next to you. 

“Stay here.” Mando says, as he and Kuiil attempt to sit and negotiate with the Jawas. 

The situation is tense, but Kuill does a superlative job of reining in both sides. He serves as both negotiator and translator when the Jawas begin giggling at Mando’s attempt to speak their language. Soon they come to some sort of bargain as the Jawas are all chanting with excitement, something about an egg.

Despite the intensity of the situation, their humor is catching. Several Jawas approach you, though you sense they are not dangerous, merely curious about you. One closely examines your belt while another plays with the hem of your shirt- _Mando’s shirt._

“GET AWAY FROM HER!” he shouts, and the curious Jawas scatter in fear. 

You bite your lip and try not to smile.


	4. The Influence

The Jawas continue to chant, only stopping to giggle every time the sandcrawler hits a bump and Mando’s head bangs into the ceiling. Their amusement at his discomfort is catching and when they start to laugh you have to turn your head so Mando doesn’t see you smiling too. It is a hilarious sight seeing the big bad Mandalorian stuffed into the bridge of the sandcrawler like a sardine in a can. You choose to sit on the floor, but he insists on standing with his shoulders hunched forward, arms crossed in defiance, and with the back of his helmet pressed against the ceiling. After a time spent traveling across the desert, the sandcrawler comes to a stop and the chanting becomes louder, _Suuga, Suuga, Suuga,_ which you quickly figure out means _egg_. 

Outside the sandcrawler the lead negotiator for the Jawas points to a trail weaving through a hilly canyon of sorts.

“Ashuna Kiizci ton ton Kiizci M'tuske “ The cave is over that way, Mando says, interpreting for you. 

“Ookwass Tomo Ashuna ?” the leader continues.

“She stays with me.” Mando replies. 

This catches you by surprise as Mando indicates for you to follow him. You do, looking back over your shoulder. The expression on Kuiil’s face seems a little concerned, but the Jawas are practically vibrating in giddy anticipation for the egg. 

The cave isn’t far but the walk over the hills wasn’t pleasant. The sand in this area of the region is a lot looser and the rain fell through much of the night creating thick mud. Every step you take, your feet sink about a half inch or so into the muck. There's a large open clearing in the belly of the canyon, the cave mouth at its center. Mando picks a spot about 50 meters away and asks you to “wait here.”

“If anything happens to me, Kuiil will help you get off the planet.” he adds, doing a weapons check. He un-holsters and re-holsters his blaster. He pats his chest where ammo is strapped to a belt. He tests the pull of a knife you didn’t even know he had in his boot. He pops and relocks the plate on his vambrace. 

“Well, let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

With a deep sigh he heads into the mouth of the cave, disappearing into the dark and out of sight. 

_You couldn’t pay me a million credits to enter that cave._

Your heart is pounding out of your chest. The wait for something to happen is tormenting. 

A moment goes by in silence. With any luck he’ll reappear at the entrance of the cave, egg in hand, having found it’s other inhabitant absent or hibernating. 

_This is torture_ . Until, five blaster shots ring out in succession. You hear a thunderous clank and then Mando is flying through the air and out of the cave. He comes crashing down on his back with a sickening _thud_. Hands flying to cover your mouth, you move to head over to him when a pissed off mammoth sized mudhorn emerges from the cave, causing you to freeze in place. 

Mando’s beskar chest plate is completely obliterated. He groans deeply as he momentarily struggles to right himself. Thankfully Mando’s longarm rifle is at his side. Still sitting, he pulls the rifle into position and takes aim. 

You swallow thickly in anticipation of the shot. The beast _ROARS. Shit!_ _Why doesn’t he take the shot?!_ Mando starts fiddling with the rifle, it sparks wildly when he tries to pull the trigger. It must have been damaged in the fall. Mando gets back up on his feet and struggles to unjam the gun. The beast paws the ground and _roars_ again before charging. It strikes Mando with a second blow, sending him hurtling through the air once again. 

The sound his body makes on impact has you terrified for him. 

“Go, get out of here!” he yells to you. 

“I can’t leave you here like this!” you shout back.

Only that was a huge mistake because now the beast is aware that there is a potential second threat. It lines you up in its sights and prepares to charge. Mando’s helmet follows it’s line of sight as well. Mando points his arm at the mudhorn and a wire repels from his vambrace to wrap around the beast’s horn. Mando pulls with all his strength, redirecting the beast’s focus back to him. The beast charges at Mando again, still on the ground. This time, Mando releases a blaze of fire into the air just before the beast makes contact. The fire does nothing. The beast’s hide is too thick, a suit of armor all its own.

The beast slams down onto Mando’s chest again. Mando lets out a roar of his own, though it's a roar of pain. His chest plate was already crushed before that blow. Now the beast is pressing down on him, driving his body down deep into the mud. Mando manages to set off another round of fire, but it only serves to anger the beast more. 

You’re panicking. What can you do? If this Mandalorian can’t defeat the mudhorn with all of his strength and weaponry, what chance did you stand? If only the beast would give up and retreat long enough for you to help Mando out of there….but your instinct says that this isn’t over until one of them is dead. 

_What can I do?_ You need to act fast. You don’t think Mando can stand another blow. His movements are sluggish, he's clearly in a great deal of pain. The beast retreats momentarily and for a split second you think it might be over...until it turns back around. It is only retreating to gain more running ground before it charges- for what you know will be the last time. 

_Use your influence...do it or he dies._

Influence. That is what you have always called it, your “influence” over people. Over the years you have found that you have a certain ability, a talent for manipulating certain beings into giving you something you want. Problem was, it was completely random. It seems to come and go or only work on particularly dense individuals. A few weeks back you were able to get free boarding for a night by merely suggesting to the owner of the boarding house that “ you will let me stay here tonight, free of charge.” You weren’t proud of it, but he was a jerk anyways and you had never used your influence to hurt anybody. Most of the time it didn’t work anyway. It didn’t work on the elderly caretakers at the orphanage, it didn’t work on the boy you had a crush on when you were thirteen and wanted him to like you back and it certainly didn’t work on your kidnappers when you were stuck in the hole. 

How would it work now, especially if you couldn’t use your words to communicate with the beast? 

_He saved my life. I owe him. I have to try._

You close your eyes and reach a hand out to the beast, trying to connect with it. You find the thread of life centered deep in your gut, the one fueling of energy fueling your body and begin to tug on it. You can feel the pull as the steady stream of your life force flows out through you and project it towards the beast. You try to send images, thoughts instead of words, that silently command the beast to stop.

It doesn’t.

It paws at the mud one last time and begins it’s final charge. Mando struggles to his knees and pulls out his knife. It’s his last resort. He tips his head and points his blade, fully prepared to die in the battle. 

You pull on the thread more, pull harder than you ever have before. The thread is now a rope and the stream of energy is rushing outward, invisible to all but you. 

The beast is still charging.

You pull even harder, searching for every fiber of energy until you feel your very life force draining from your body. Your brows crease, muscles lock, and you push through. You fall to your knees in the mud, unable to support your own legs. Your vision grows dim, like a lightbulb flickering in and out with the strain. The well is empty and there is nothing left.

The world goes black and you collapse.

__________________________________________________________

You come to by degrees, aware that you are lying on some sort of cot before you dare to crack your eyes open. All is quiet and cool, only the light _whirring_ of an engine. 

_Engine?_

You snap forward and take in your surroundings. You're in a bunk. _Mando’s bunk?_

The small portable lantern hangs from the ceiling above casting a comfortable glow to the otherwise, tight space. _How’d I get here? How long have I been out?_

It was like this too, the last time you blacked out... so long ago. Last time, you had been out for three days and when you awoke, you found yourself in an orphanage hospital room. 

Things appeared to be put back to rights. _Did Mando repair the entire ship while I was out?_

You try to remember the last thing that happened. _The mudhorn._ You rub your temples as it dawns on you that you're going to have to have a very awkward conversation with Mando. 

_He’s going to want answers I don’t have._

You briefly consider faking sleep and hiding out in the bunk for the entire duration of the journey, but your bladder has other ideas. You decide to face the music, but head to the fresher first. After emptying your bladder you wash your hands in the small sink and splash cold water all over your face. Hands braced on either side of the small sink, you lean forward and look into the small mirror on the wall. You take in your reflection and notice you're wearing a new shirt.- not yours. You look down at your chest and tug on the new shirt. 

_Another one of Mando’s shirts?_

A deep modulated voice startles you out of your thoughts.

“The other one was covered in mud.”

If the shirt was covered in mud, so were you. You realize he must have bathed you and changed your clothes. You blush fiercely at the thought, but feel thankful he went out of his way to make you comfortable. _Why not put me back into my own clothes?_

“Thank you.” you say brushing past him to look for your boots. 

He watches you silently for a moment, probably waiting for you to explain yourself. 

“Looks like you’ve got the whole ship back in order. That’s impressive... I have to admit, I thought it was going to be impossible,” you say casually. You find your boots and begin lacing them up like there’s nothing out of the ordinary going on here. 

“It took three days.” 

You nod and it’s not lost on you, what he is really saying, _You were out cold for three days._

_“_ Bang up job.” you say, lightly knocking a fist on the nearest wall. 

You finish lacing the other boot and with nothing left to do you sit awkwardly in silence while Mando stares at you, waiting.

Finally, he says, “Are you hungry?” 

Relief floods your veins, maybe he isn’t going to ask. Maybe you can both just go on with your lives and pretend this never happened. After all, you’d be going your separate ways soon.

You perch yourself on a steel storage box in the hull while Mando prepares something to eat. You note the armory is full again, it seems he got all of his weapons back, and Maker- there are so many. Even the carbonation chamber seems to be in working order-a steady light blinks, indicating that the system is ready to use. 

A warm bowl of broth and some dried bread appear before you. You inhale it deeply and moan with delight. You can’t remember the last time you had hot food. 

“I’ll leave you to eat, then you should join me in the cockpit.” 

Your belly flutters a little in disappointment. You’d prefer he join you but then you remember that he can’t eat without removing his helmet. 

“Ok.”

The broth is divine. The warm amber liquid soothes your dry throat and the crusty bread is beyond all expectations. After energy gel packs and gruel, this is a five star meal. You finish your dinner, the broth having warmed you from the inside, you climb the ladder to the cockpit feeling warm and toasty. 

Mando is in the pilot’s seat, flicking a number of controls and dials. The sky is black and peppered with stars twinkling in the far beyond. There are two passenger seats on either side of the cockpit, both behind Mando. You take the one to his right, pulling your feet up and tucking them under your legs as you would normally do. 

“How long until we reach Navarro?’

“About ten hours.”

For several hours you both sit in peaceful silence. Neither of you feels the need to fill the air with pointless small talk. It’s comfortable and not forced. It’s easy and not at all awkward like it should be. You stare into the inky blackness out the window and listen to the sounds of the Razor Crest. The gentle hum of the engines, the whistle of the air circulating, the static of the computers- it’s all oddly soothing. Sitting up here, you think this must be the best part of a bounty hunter’s job. 

Your mind wanders back to Mando and you remember again how he bathed and changed your clothing for you. Your body begins to flush and your pussy to ache. _He saw me naked. Did he like what he saw? How unfair that he has seen everything, and I don’t even know what color his hair is. I bet it’s brown._ You’d love to have an image to take with you, a picture in your mind to store in your spank-bank for later use, but sadly, all you will have is whatever fantasy you draw on your own. You think of the last you saw him, battling the mudhorn. The way he held his head, knife poised and ready to meet the Maker. _Valiant_ comes to mind. He was dauntless, brave in that moment and you found the image incredibly sexy. 

Your panties begin to wet at the thought. Once again, your body being spurred on by yet another close call with death. You shift your legs then, so that one crosses over the other in an attempt to put some pressure on it. 

Mando turns to you then, bringing you out of your dirty thoughts.

“Before we get to Navarro….I need to know what happened out there.”

Damn. You thought you had successfully dodged the bullet, but it came anyway. _Buzzkill._

You swallow thickly and lick your lips. 

“I don’t remember a lot. What did _you_ see happen?” _Find out what he knows first._

“That mudhorn...was about to finish me for good... It was about to end me….It was charging at me full force, and then it wasn’t. It’s legs were kicking full speed but it wasn’t moving because….it was floating ...in the air.” 

Your eyes go wide. That is not what you were expecting to hear. Floating in the air? You had never done _that_ before. 

Mando continues, “ Then I looked at you, to see if you had gotten away. But you were there and _you_ were the cause of it. Then you passed out...and took a three day nap, and I...I don’t understand it.”

You start rubbing your temples again.

“Well, I don’t quite understand it either, I’ve never made anything _float_ before.”

He takes a deep breath and kudos to him for staying patient with you. 

“What _have_ you done before? Can you do other things?” 

You try to decide what to say. Of course it’s better to lie, make something up, but you fail to come up with a reasonable sounding excuse, _Fuck it, just tell him the truth._

“There is a small thing...I can do.”

You inhale and exhale while trying to decide the best way to explain. 

“I can influence...some people.”

“What do you mean, _influence_?”

“I’ve always been able to do this thing, with certain people ...I dunno. Basically, I can suggest something, like it’s their own idea, and they will do it.” 

Mando waits silently for you to go on.

“Like, ok, for instance, there was this really sleezoid fathier handler on Canto Bight. He was really abusive to the animals and was working the children over way too much.” you pause. “So I just told him, ‘you WILL release all of the animals.’ Then he agreed, he said, ‘I WILL release all the animals.’....and he did.”

“...and I know what you're probably thinking, but I swear to you he deserved it, he was a major piece of bantha shit.”

Mando inhales, exhales. 

“Have you ever….have you ever done it to me?”

“What?! NO!” you say in surprise.

“I’ve never even tried, up until today it only worked on idiots.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean it doesn’t work on everybody, usually just the dim-witted. I mean, I have tried on regular people and most of them- nothing. And the mudhorn…. well, I’ve never really tried with an animal before, because it doesn’t work on beings who don’t speak _Basic_ , or if I can’t speak their language. They have to understand the meaning of my words, and clearly a mudhorn wouldn’t.” _Your rambling._

You sigh. “But I’ve never done _that_ before.” 

You wait for his response and wish to the Maker that you could see his face right now and read his expression. His body language gives nothing away, always so stoic. 

“Why did you sleep like that...for so long?”

“When I try to push my influence on someone...it takes a lot of my energy. I guess stopping the mudhorn drained me, like completely.”

“Has that happened before?”

“Only one other time, when I was a kid- I don’t really remember any of what happened though. I think…..I think this was life or death, so I gave it everything I had.”

Mando sighs through the modulator. He doesn’t ask you any more questions, seemingly satisfied with your explanation and leans back in his seat. 

“Thank you.” he says. “You saved my life.”

“Just returning the favor.” you say with a smile.

He continues staring at you for a while, maybe not sure where to go with the conversation from here. Your heart starts beating wildly as you contemplate what you’re about to ask him. It’s not like you to be so bold, but you’re also not shy and if there is any chance he is sharing the same thoughts, you’re dying to know. _Just say it, what’s the worst that can happen?_

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.” comes that low baritone voice that’s been driving your dirty thoughts. When all this is over, you may not have a face to put to memory, but you will never forget _that_ voice.

“Do you find me attractive?”

When he doesn’t immediately answer, you become nervous and start rambling.

“It’s just, well I don’t know if this happens to you, but after all that time in the dark, and those raiders...then the mudhorn….do you? ….I mean, you probably have a lot of close calls, is it normal to…” you struggle for the right words, “ ache...sexually i mean?” 

Mando continues to stare at you as you ramble on nervously, and doesn’t say anything.

“I just thought...maybe...if you were feeling that way too...maybe we could...help each other...you know...relieve the ache.”

Mando doesn’t say anything, either stunned in silence or..or? 

“unless….Oh Maker, I’m an idiot! Are Mandalorians not allowed to?” Why did you never think of that? The man swore a creed to never remove his helmet, he’s probably not allowed to have sex either. _I was wrong, the worst that can happen is that you could end up propositioning a virgin….a really sexy virgin clad in beskar._ You want to crawl back into the hole and die of embarrassment.

Palm to your forehead, you say, “I am so sorry, forget I said anything. I’m gonna go down below, take a cold shower, then crawl under a rock and hide. Just let me know when we reach Navarro.” 

You’re mortified, can’t believe you stood up there blathering on and on about your..."ache". 

You enter the tiny fresher and quickly disrobe, pulling his shirt over your head. Catching his warm and woody sent on the fabric does nothing to quell the ache building between your legs. You flip the handle all the way to the right, as cold as it will go and the water begins to fall from the showerhead. You step under the freezing cold stream and hope that it can wash away the ache AND the embarrassment. 

The water is so cold it actually burns, turning your skin pink from the icy sting. You lean a hand on the wall and run your face under the stream. You're completely lost in your thoughts, replaying what just happened over and over again in your mind, which is why you don’t hear the refresher door open. 

Your hand splays on the wall in surprise when Mando’s deep modulated voice speaks from behind you.

“Close your eyes.”

You exhale a breath you didn’t know you were holding and do as he asks, still facing the wall. Your heart begins to race in anticipation of what he will do next. His voice was modulated, so you know he still has the helmet on. Your chest begins to rise and fall heavily as you wait. Excitement courses through your veins as you realize he must be staring at the back of your naked body. He steps closer until you can feel his presence at your back. It’s hard to resist turning around but you stay frozen in place with your eyes closed. He leans his helmet over your shoulder, and you can feel the press of his beskar against your back. _Still fully clothed in armor._

_“_ Show me where you ache.” comes his deep baritone, sounding a little more gravelly this time. 

You tilt your head a little to the side so he can have a better view from over your shoulder and begin to touch yourself.

“Good girl.” he says when you slide your hand down low to cover your pussy. A gloved hand brushes against your arm and suddenly the water is heating up, getting warmer. _He must have turned the dial._ Funny, all thoughts of the freezing cold water were forgotten the minute he had spoken. At this moment, your body could be on fire and you wouldn’t be able to feel anything but the blood coursing to your pussy. The ache only intensifies as you begin to rub small circles around your clit. 

Mando’s gloved hands begin roaming all over your body. The sensation of gloved hands on your sensitive skin is surprisingly pleasurable. He takes his time tracing every contour every curve. He goes on doing this for long moments before letting out what sounds like a small groan of frustration. 

“Keep doing that.” He says near your ear, his voice causing a jolt of pleasure that centers deep in your belly. And then all contact is gone and you are left touching yourself. You sense movement behind you and then hear the wet _thwap_ of gloves hitting the floor. A shiver of anticipation runs through you when you realize you’ll have his bare hands on your flesh soon. 

Another moment passes and the sounds of more clothing being discarded echoes in the small shower. _Has he removed everything?_ You abandon your clit to slide your index finger down in between your folds. His modulated voice returns over your shoulder, but this time, cold beskar is replaced by a warm body. You shudder at the first contact finding the mere thought of him undressed highly erotic. He returns to exploring your body with his now degloved hands. His exploration is agonizingly slow. This time his groan sounds... admiring. Again, he leaves no inch of skin untouched, rubbing his hands all over your body, and it occurs to you. _He’s starved for touch._

Finally, his hand slides around your hip and down to the apex of your thighs. 

“Let’s see how wet you are for me.” he says replacing your finger with his own. His hands are amazing, his touch firm yet gentle. With his chest pressed against your back there’s no mistaking the feel of his arousal pressing firmly against your ass. _Maker he is ...hard._

Mando dips a finger in and slowly begins to test your entrance. “Stars, you are wet...so wet for me aren’t you?” 

Your chest is panting, you have trouble finding the words to answer, so you nod. Mando’s other hand slides around to cup and knead your breast. 

“Maker I’ve wanted this…” he groans “...wanted you….so badly. Nearly gave me a heart attack watching you bathe in the rain.” 

You gasp in surprise but somehow manage to find your voice. 

“You watched me?” your words tumble out breathlessly as he increases his pace. 

“I tried… I tried not to. Wanted to give you privacy…..but I couldn’t _not_ watch. I _had_ to watch. Couldn’t last though...had to satisfy the ache you were giving me.” 

“You...you pleasured yourself while watching?”

“MMMhmmmm.” he replies with a deep groan. 

The idea of it all, him stroking himself as he watched you bathe in the rain, it sends you careening over the edge. 

“Oh you lovely girl….you’re going to cum on my hand, aren’t you?”

“Yes!” you cry out. The hand kneading your breast begins lightly pinching your nipple. He shifts his other hand so that he now has two fingers delving in and out of your pussy while his thumb lightly circles your clit. 

A thousand stars burst out behind your eyelids as your body rides out it’s pleasure. 

“So pretty when you cum.” he moans into your ear. “But I bet you’re still aching, aren’t you?” 

He was right, you need more...more of him. 

“Let me ease your ache...you want that?” he asks, while taking his cock in hand and running it up and down the back of your ass. 

“Yes, please.”

“Yes please what? What do you want me to do?”

“Fuck me, please.”

Without hesitation Mando palms the back of your neck and gently presses your head forward until your forehead is flush against the wall and your body is bent at a forty five degree angle from the waist up. He maintains a firm grip effectively holding you in place as he uses his other hand to guide his length to your entrance from behind. 

Again, his will power astonishes you as he leisurely slides the head of his cock up and down your pussy. He takes his sweet time savoring the feel as he coats himself with your wetness. You’re already on the verge again, shaking in anticipation. You want desperately to push back and thrust yourself upon him, it takes every ounce of willpower you have to resist the urge and let him enjoy the feel. 

You moan in need, ”Please.”

“Lovely girl wants my cock?”

“Yesss.” 

He pushes in inch by inch, deliciously stretching you to the limit _He is big...really big...maybe too big?_ As the thought arises, he begins pumping his hips and his other hand returns to your clit effectively erasing any doubts that you can handle his size. 

His strokes are measured, slow torturous withdraws followed by fast thrusts. You're clinging to the edge of release, both hands splayed on the wall to keep your legs from giving out.

“You’re so tight, so hot and needy. Look how well you take my cock.” 

“Go on, I want you to see.” You tilt your forehead down and open your eyes to look between your legs. _Inward shake._ He stops thrusting so you can see the view of him seated to the hilt in your pussy. He waits before slowly withdrawing so that you can see every glorious inch retreat. _He is beautiful._ But the biggest surprise of all is what sends you hurtling over the edge. Surprise of all surprises, it’s not the view of where you're joined, but the sight of his legs and feet. You see his tanned skin and the light brown hair dusting his legs. It’s finding out what color his skin is, the _knowing_ that does you in. You squeeze your eyes shut in an attempt to store the image in your mind forever as you begin to unravel. _I want to remember what color his skin is._

“Good girl, you’re going to come for me again aren’t you?”

“Ye….yes.” 

He begins thrusting harder.

“So beautiful.” he says. He removes his finger from your clit and runs it from the top of your spine all the way down the center of your back, to the top of your ass causing you to spasm on his cock. He grabs on to your hip and let’s out another groan, half ecstasy, half anguish.

“Fuck!” he yells, abandoning his hold on the back of your neck. He tugs at your shoulder and slides his hand around the front of your face to cover your eyes. He uses his hand to both mask your eyes and pull your head back to rest against his shoulder. He stops thrusting for a second and you whimper in protest. His hand leaves your hip as he uses it to fiddle with something. You hear a loud _CLANK_ as beskar meets metal floor and realize that he has removed his helmet. He moves your hair to the side and begins planting soft kisses along your neck, and you lose all control. 

“One more time baby, let me see how lovely you are when you cum.”

If you thought his deep modulated voice was a panty soaker, it was nothing compared to his natural bravado. His rich timbre sends you hurtling over the edge for a third time.

“That’s it, good girl.” he praises as your pussy clamps down on his cock. He returns to kissing your neck until he’s chasing his own release. A few more thrusts and he’s groaning loudly. He pulls out and releases his spend on your back. 

You're both panting heavily and he has to use his free arm to keep you from melting into a puddle on the shower floor. With his hand still covering your eyes, he rests his forehead on the back of your neck for a moment. When he’s assured you can support yourself on wobbly legs he removes his free hand and wipes away his come from your back. _You can leave it if you want to._

Satisfied that you’re once again clean, he speaks into the crook of your neck. 

“Keep your eyes closed for me.”

“I will.” 

His hand slips from your eyes and you remain perfectly still, allowing him to step out from the water and grab his helmet, securing it back in place. 

“It’s safe now.” he says, the thick modulated voice you're used to, having returned. 

You turn in place and see he’s gathered the pile of discarded armor and gloves in a large bundle in his arms. He turns to leave the refresher, stopping only to place the shirt you were wearing on the sink. 

“Did you happen to grab my clothes before we departed? I left them drying in the sun.”

His helmet turns to face you for a moment and then you watch his back as he exits the fresher.

“Like you better in my shirt,” you think you hear him say quietly, before the door shuts. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please please, let me know if you're digging the story, Comments drive me to write more. We're about to go on a wild ride in the next few chapters.  
> What do we think of Mando?
> 
> Want to experience the soothing sounds of the Razor Crest's cockpit? Check out Sleeping on the Razor Crest by Songbirdaudio on youtube:  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9FQhtaSfXSQ&list=WL&index=11&t=65s


	5. The Sin

Maker knows you weren’t expecting a cuddle-fest post Mando-shower, but it’s safe to say that you also weren’t expecting the cold shoulder. The last hour in the cockpit has felt icy cold and not because of the temperature. You’ve grown used to Mando’s silence- he’s a man of few words for certain, but now there’s a bite to it, a brooding that puts an uneasy feeling in the pit of your stomach. _What did you expect from a Mandalorian, a tearful goodbye?_ He says nothing, but you could swear you catch him glancing over his shoulder in your direction every now and then.

You remain quiet as Mando guides the Razor Crest into Navarro’s atmosphere. The landscape is a drab foundation of molten rock and lava rivers. Steam bellows out of various cracks and craters amidst the town. Mando safely lands the ship on the charcoal flats just outside the main thoroughfare. 

Goodbyes have never really been your thing anyways, so you head straight down the ladder and make your way over to the door. Sadly, you have not a single personal item to take with you, so you can’t even make a big show of ‘packing up your things’. _No reason to draw this out any longer than you need to._

Mando’s only a step behind you and you reach the door at the same time. _Please let him say something first._

His hand hovers over the button that opens the door for a moment. _Please, say something._

He inhales deeply, hesitates to push the button. 

He reaches out a hand to you. _Really? A handshake?_ You hoped he'd at least ask your name.

A handshake feels... _wrong_. But it’s what he is offering so you take his hand. He squeezes it firmly, but it’s devoid of any affection. 

“What did you do?” he asks, his voice sounding, frustrated?

“Pardon?” 

“What. Did. You .Do?” he punctuates the words. 

You don’t like his tone so you attempt to pull out of the handshake, but he only squeezes tighter pulling you toward him. 

“What do _you_ mean? I didn’t do anything, what are you talking about?”

Mando uses his free hand to pull something shiny out from behind his back and before you can ask him to clarify again, he slaps a set of cuffs around your wrists. 

You try to pull away, but he’s a beskar weighted anchor and doesn’t budge an inch. 

“What is this Mando?”

He sighs.

“They didn’t put you in a hole.”

“What?” You're confused, he’s not making any sense.

“It wasn’t a hole. It was a vault.”

“A vault?”

“Where they keep things...of value.” 

“I don’t understand, what are you saying?” 

“You. You are the bounty.”

 _I am the bounty._ You repeat the words over and over. _I am the bounty._

“No.” You shake your head, “That can’t be right, there must be some mistake.” 

“There’s no mistake.”

Your heart starts racing, your fight or flight senses are screaming at you to run. 

“So, I’ll ask you again, What. Did. You. Do?” The way he says it, he must be grinding his molars.

“I see. So you want me to confess to some crime….so that you can ease your conscience. Is that it? Well, I’m not going to do that.” 

He waits a moment and then presses the button to open the door and release the gangway. “Fine.” 

He guides you by the elbow down the ramp and towards the town. There’s nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. If there was ever a time to bargain your way out, it had long since passed without you knowing. Chances are, it would have been in vain anyway. Mando doesn’t seem like the type of man to be persuaded by such things. You stare almost blankly as he leads you through the center of town. Your mind is numb from the sting of betrayal, so you barely take notice of the peddlers hawking their wares or the stares you receive as he marches you past. 

You're angry, maybe even a little hurt, but mostly, you’re embarrassed. _I am such an idiot. He never asked my name because he probably knew it all along._

 _Don’t cry. Do. Not. Cry._ You put your chin up and shoulders back. 

Mando turns off the main road and you wind down several side streets and back alleys. Neither of you acknowledges the other.

You come to a stop in front of a door at the bottom of a stairway and Mando pounds his fist until a security cam droid presents itself. He flashes a small card that the droid scans before retreating back into the wall. You try to maintain an heir of confidence, though your heart feels like it drops down into the pit of your stomach when two Imperial stormtroopers open the door and stare at you. Mando stares straight ahead, refusing to make eye contact with you again. _So that's how it's going to be._

One of the stormtroopers grabs at the center of the cuffs and leads you to follow behind. You hesitate at the entrance of a dark corridor, but he yanks you forward so you start moving again. 

“Easy with that.” Mando says, but the trooper is quick to retort, “You take it easy.”

You enter an open room at the end of the hall. An older man dressed in expensive looking robes rises from a desk and approaches you with a blinking fob. 

“Yes. Yes. Yes.” You’re immediately creeped out and take a step backwards until your shoulders meet a wall of beskar. Knowing there’s no safety to be found there, you straighten your shoulders again and attempt to put on a brave face. A second man approaches, a weaselly looking man in a lab coat, and shines some type of red light into your eyes. You turn away squinting at the intrusion. 

He looks at you like you’re a shiny new toy on Life Day. “She appears to be in good health,” he says. _Ew, why is that a concern?_

Finding the courage to finally speak up, you address the older one that seems to be in charge, directly. 

“Look, I don’t know who you think I am, but I’m not _her_ . Somebody has made a terrible mistake here, you’ve got the _wrong_ girl.” 

The older man looks to the lab coat for confirmation. Lab Coat, checking his scanner thingy smiles back at him and nods _yes._

Ignoring you completely, he addresses Mando instead. 

“Your reputation was not unwarranted.” 

“How many fobs did you give out?”

“This asset is of extreme importance to me, I had to ensure her delivery.....” 

“....But, to the winner...go the spoils.” He steps behind his desk and pulls out a large safe that reveals a substantial stack of beskar bricks. 

Your eyes slam closed at the sight. _I’m in way more trouble than I even thought._

With a reward like that, there’d be no bargaining. You resist the urge to beg your way out, not wanting to appear weak in front of the Mandalorian. Who knows why? You shouldn’t give a damn what he thinks of you, but for some reason you do. You want him to think you are strong, and Maker, you hate yourself for that. 

“Such a large bounty, for such a small package.” 

Lab Coat leads you away then, troopers following on your heel. It takes every bit of will power you have not to turn and look back at Mando one last time, but somehow you manage not to give him the satisfaction.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You’re brought into a dark room that looks like a cross between a science lab and a makeshift portable hospital. _shiver._

“Have a seat.” Lab Coat says, indicating a black table in the center of the room. 

Deciding that your legs might give out in fear anyway, you decide to take him up on his offer. 

It may be fruitless, but you try anyway. “I don’t know who you think I am, but you’re wrong. I’m not the one you’re looking for.”

Lab Coat starts fiddling with some machinery, pushing buttons and firing up some medical equipment. 

“Oh, you’re _the one_ all right.” He appears excited at the prospect of you being ‘the one’.

“I ‘ll bet you have all sorts of abilities, don’t you?” he says excitedly, starting to jot some things down on a clipboard. 

“Well lets see...." you say, mock tapping your chin. "... When I was a kid I beat the level 7 boss of the ice world in _Raiders of the Galaxy part 3_ all by myself. I can read a book and follow the plot of my favorite drama on the holoscreen at the same time, so I guess you can say I’m good at multitasking.... OH!...and I can speak Jawa….only not the whole language - but I can definitely say _egg_.”

Lab Coat smiles- _actually smiles_. “I bet you can move things with your mind... get people to do your bidding.”

“I couldn't even get my last boyfriend to take out the trash. If I could do all those other things, do you really think I would be sitting here?”

The older man enters the room now, having apparently finished his deal with Mando. _Don’t want to think about that right now._

“What is it _exactly_ that you want from me?”

The Old Man steps forward, leering down at you. 

“Your blood.” _My blood? ...Gross._

“You want my blood? Sure, that’s no problem at all. Why don’t we do this? Let’s set up a bi-monthy subscription.... Order now and I’ll throw in a bag of go fuck yourself, for free.” 

“I’m afraid that won’t do, you see….we need _ALL_ of your blood.” 

Well, he might just get it because despite your best effort to try and remain cool, you can feel the blood drain from your face. 

Lab Coat hands you a papery hospital gown. “Put this on.” 

“Uh, no. That’s not gonna work for me.”

Old Guy interjects, “You can put it on, or I can have the troopers hold you down while Dr. Pershing cuts your clothes off.”

The troopers shift their weight on their feet. You stare daggers into his eyes and reluctantly snatch the gown out of Dr. Pershing’s hand.

“On second thought, paper gown is the new tan.”

You are in a shit-ton of trouble. You have no weapon, you can’t fight your way out and even if you could use your influence on one of these guys, it’d never work on all of them. You’ll have to bide your time and wait until you’re alone with only one of them, and pray to the stars that that _one_ is susceptible. _Lull them into a false sense of compliance._ You decide to use the situation to your benefit. You hold out your wrists indicating the cuffs. "Can't change clothes with these on." He hesitates, but then presses a button on a fob and the cuffs fall off. _I can work with this._

Clearly, they don’t intend to give you any privacy, so you just head to the corner with your back facing them and change out of Mando’s shirt and into the paper gown. 

“Why do you think I'm the one you're looking for?” 

“Because….” Old Guy says with his annoyingly aristocratic sounding accent, “Years ago, A husband and wife, mother and father to a young girl were killed under some very disturbing circumstances.” 

Your blood runs cold. _He knows._

“The child was taken to an orphanage. It seems a short time after she arrived there was… an incident. A young boy, paralyzed after having fallen from a great height...recovered his ability to walk. The caretakers at the orphanage claimed it was a miracle... but the boy claimed it was the girl who had healed him…..only, the girl disappeared shortly after, never to be heard from again. …….that is until she showed up at the orphanage a few months ago.... asking for a copy of her case file.” 

You try to swallow the lump lodged in your throat. 

“You’re that girl.”

You don’t deny it. It’s clear you won’t be able to convince him otherwise. _Feign compliance_. _Use this time to think of a way to escape._ _There are no windows...the door is guarded by two bucketheads- probably more in the hall._

“OW!” you yelp, looking down at the needle Dr. Pershing just jabbed you with while you were distracted. “You didn’t even swab it first, “ you say sarcastically….”I could get an infection.” You think maybe he laughs, but the room is suddenly spinning and the voices all sound like they're underwater. 

“Extract the necessary material and be done with it.”

“He wants her _alive_ , and I want to test her….need to find a correlation between m-count and ability.”

It’s the last thing you hear before the world goes black. 

_____________________________________________________________________

It’s nightfall. A Mandalorian, clad in a pristine suit of beskar armor, stands in an alleyway, staring down at a discarded shirt. 

______________________________________________________________________

You're in a sleep between worlds, it’s the type of dream where you know you’re dreaming, but can’t seem to wake yourself up. You’re trapped in an hourglass, the sand slipping away, swallowing you whole. You take a deep breath and prepare to hold it as the sand covers your head. You sink below the surface and into the dark. You take a breath, expecting your lungs to fill with sand, but the sand is gone and now you’re in the dark. It’s a familiar darkness. You stumble over a food bowl as you feel around in the blackness. Your hand meets the wall and you cry out at the realization that you’re back in the hole again. An explosion rattles the walls, and the sound of alarms ring out overhead. The hole transforms into a dark tunnel with a small light at the end. A heart monitor beeps loudly in time with each step you take towards it. The light begins to fade the closer you get. 

_WHAT DID YOU DO TO HER?_ A voice calls out. 

You squeeze your eyes shut and cover your ears. Your hands and feet feel so cold. Your body grows sluggish. Until... the voice wraps your body in a cloak. It’s warm and inviting. It feels safe. Your body is scooped up and cradled. This is nice, so much better not being alone in the dark. Birds whistle around you and a blast of hot air warms your skin. You like it here now. Now you can rest. Now you can sleep. 

_STAY WITH ME_ says the voice.

_STAY WITH ME, LOVE_

It sounds so nice. You want to stay with the voice, but the promise of deep dreamless sleep tugs hard at you now. 

“I want to…. but I don’t know if I can. If I go...will you find me again?”

_I WILL ALWAYS FIND YOU_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mando did a bad bad thing...


	6. Run

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Taking some non-canon liberties here, do not come for me...

Déjà vu was a bitch. For the second time in three days, you have woken on Mando’s cot, and _in_ Mando’s shirt. _It’s not cute anymore._ It was the blinking green light that called like a beacon in the dark. You stand in front of the panel on the carbonite chamber, watching that annoying green light blink. How is it that you’re back on this ship?

“You’re awake.” Comes that familiar modulated voice from behind you. It’s almost annoying how stealthy he can be- or maybe you were just too consumed by your thoughts to hear him? 

You stare ahead, not quite ready to face him again.

“Are you going to put me in there?”

“No.” he says, and it might be the quickest reply he has ever given you. 

“I suppose it’s not necessary when the quarry practically delivers herself for you.”

Mando sighs deeply. 

“I....I never lied to you.” 

“No, I suppose you didn’t.” you say, matching his sigh.

“I understand if you're angry….” 

“I’m not.” _I very much am._

“You’re not?” 

“You were just doing your job, right? You weren’t the reaper...just the ferryman.”

He inhales deeply again. “Are you ok? Did they hurt you?”

 _No, to both. “_ I’m fine.” 

You take a deep breath and turn to face him. His damaged and broken armor has been replaced with newly forged beskar. The finish has a high polish shine that gleams even in the near dark of the hull. _That fucking stings._

You take a step closer and run your finger along the edge of the shoulder pauldron. A newly minted mudhorn signet is beautifully etched into the steel. You return your stone cold gaze to the black t of his visor. You try to see past it, wanting to look straight into his eyes. 

“But, as far as I’m concerned, this armor should be half mine.” You say, tilting your head to the side, remaining deceptively calm. 

He has to clear his throat a little before speaking again. The modulated voice comes out a little raspier this time. “We have a lot we need to work out.” 

“Do we?”

“I know….I know I messed up. But your safety... is my only priority now.”

“Why's that?

There’s a long pregnant pause in his silence before he responds, “This is the way.”

You try to process his words, to look between them for the truth, but can’t decide what’s real or not. _No thanks._ _I can save myself._ You decide to use his own tactics against him.

_Lull him into a false sense of compliance. When the moment is right, strike out._

He’s about to say more when a blast rocks the ship sending you both stumbling into the walls. Warning lights and alarm sensors sound as a second blast shakes the hull. You fist the cargo nets attached to the wall in an effort to regain your balance. Mando beelines for the cockpit and you follow on unstable feet behind him. He’s quick to reach the pilot’s seat and confirm that the Crest is under fire. Blasts continue to ricochet off the ship walls, but now that Mando is at the helm, the direct hits are fewer. A voice comes over the comm, “ Hand over the woman Mando, and I might let you live.” 

Mando dives to the right, nearly sending you into the wall. “Buckle in,” he commands, as you work your way into the rear passenger seat. The left engine takes on another direct blow. A few more like that and you think this ship might buckle like a tin can under a boot. The engine warning lights are screaming now. Mando rapidly presses buttons and flips switches before declaring, “Hold on!”

He takes the ship into a spinning dive maneuver and sweeps out to the left, but the other ship stays locked on in tight pursuit. “Come on,” Mando grunts out in frustration. 

Red beams fly past the windshield and into the atmosphere. “Give it up Mando.” comes the voice over the comm again. 

Mando quickly reverses the thrusters bringing the crest to a near stop. You're thankful you buckled in when you did or you’d likely be thrust upon the windshield. You squeezed your eyes and sent a quick prayer to the Maker that the other ship wouldn’t come crashing into the Crest from behind. Mando dips down slightly and the other ship goes skidding across the top, barely missing the Crest, but takes out the right engine. 

“Are you crazy?” you shout.

Only now the other ship is in Mando’s sights, having zoomed past. He locks on with the targeting system and fires. The other ship disintegrates before your eyes. 

The battle is over but the danger is not. Warning lights and systems continue to alert. Mando turns off the engines and attempts to do some damage control. You unbuckle for a better look at the console. It’s a mess with dozens of indicators alerting to damage. “We're losing fuel” he says as he powers down all systems except for life support. All screens go black. Mando turns to you, where you’re silently watching from over his shoulder. “Flip that switch,” he says, indicating a small black lever to your left. 

You do, and the screens and lights come back on at what seems like half capacity. “Emergency backup generator.” He says. 

“Should be just enough to hobble us over there.” he says. It’s only now that you notice there is a large planet in the distance. 

A few moments later Mando turns on the comm.

“This is Mos Eisley tower. We are tracking you. Head for bay 3-5, over.”

“Copy that, locked in for 3-5.” 

“Mos Eisley?” you ask. “We’re heading for Tatooine?”

“You’ve been?” He asks looking at you. 

“No, “ you shake your head, “I’ve only heard things.”

\-----------------------------------------------------------

The ship is pretty crippled so it’s a bit of a rough landing as Mando sets down the Razor Crest in the middle of a hanger that looks as if it too, has seen better days. You follow him down the ladder expecting to exit the ship behind him, when he turns and stops abruptly in front of you. You walk straight into his shiny new chest plate, yelping in surprise. 

“I want you to stay here.”

“What? No.” you protest. 

“Look, we’re both being hunted now and Tatooine isn’t exactly known for being a safe haven. I want you to stay here. I’ll arrange for the ship repairs and pick up a few supplies. I should be back in an hour tops…...then we can finish our conversation.” 

You feign a disappointed look and relent with a huff, “fine.” He turns to leave and you decide to throw in a little extra sense of security for his benefit.

“Wait! I need a new set of clothes….something _with_ pants.” He waits and then replies, “Anything else?”

“No. just the clothes.”

He nods and departs the Crest stopping halfway down the ramp and turns around again. 

You’re taken by surprise when he calls out your name. _He's never said my name before._

“Yes?” you answer hesitantly. 

“Do not even think of running.”

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You _were_ in fact going to run. The moment you learned you were heading straight into Tatooine, you had started forming a plan. For months now you had been working your way across the galaxy, trying to get to this very point, and now, low and behold, this hunk of junk ship ends up delivering you precisely to your destination. You wait patiently until he has been gone for a solid five minutes before leaving the ship, just in case he decides he “forgot something” and comes back.

Before you flee the Crest, you decide to leave Mando a little parting gift. You scour the ship for anything personal to destroy. You want to shred his books or toss his favorite records into the bin, but the man is an enigma and doesn’t seem to have anything you’d consider a personal belonging. You alight on an idea and make a quick job of it. Is it petty? _yes._ Is it childish? _yes._ Did it feel good? _hell yes._ Satisfied, you smile at your handy work before deciding to stop at his armory on the way out. Most of the weapons are too large for you to carry inconspicuously, or too large for you to handle anyway, so you grab a knife that can easily be tucked into a boot. 

There’s a mechanic just starting work on the other side of the ship, so you sneak out the opposite side and make your way into the office. You head straight for a locker on the back wall, and fate must be working with you because there is a mechanic’s spare jumpsuit and boots inside. You quickly change clothes, careful not to be seen by the small mechanic droids lingering on the opposite side of the hanger. The jumpsuit is a little too tight around the hips and ass, but the boots are a perfect match to your feet. You tuck the knife in and decide to haul ass out of there. You're on a clock. Mando will be back in about 45 minutes according to your best guess. 

Mos Eisley is unruly at best. It seems to be littered with spacers and thieves. You stick to moving through the outlining streets, and avoid the main roads, deciding that Mando likely headed for the marketplace. You do your best to stick to the shadows and attempt to walk over other’s footprints, hoping that Mando’s tracking won’t be able to decipher the difference. It takes much longer than you hoped, but eventually you find your way to Chalmun’s Cantina, just outside the community junkyard. Trooper helmets on pikes line the road on either side of the entrance. Oddly comforting considering your last run in with troopers. _There'll be no Imps here._

It’s late morning by your guess- which means it’s the slow hour, well before patrons of all species will file in, looking to escape the midday suns. You quickly scan the room for beskar and finding none, you make your way over to the droid-manned bar, avoiding the notice of it’s more dangerous looking barflies. You approach the bartender, doing your best to act natural. 

“Droid, I’m looking for someone...a smuggler.” 

“This is Tatooine, Smugglers are as commonplace as sand.” _Nobody likes a sarcastic droid._

“I mean, I’m looking for a particular one, goes by the name of Vale. Do you know of him?” 

“I am programmed to forget those kinds of details, in order to maintain plausible deniability.” 

You sigh. “Well, do you know anybody who might be able to point me in the right direction?”

“Nah, you won’t get anything out of the tin can back there, he can’t even make a decent drink.” Comes a voice from the booth behind you. 

You turn to find a younger guy with his feet perched casually on the tabletop, rolling a coin across his knuckles. He’s easy on the eyes for sure, but he has an arrogance about him, a cockiness you’re instinct says is probably unjustified. 

“If it’s information you’re looking for, have a seat.” he says putting his boots down. 

You hesitate, but decide to hear him out. You’re running out of time and he might be your best chance of finding a lead before Mando returns to find you missing from the Crest. 

“You know _where_ I can find this Vale?

“No, but I know someone who can.”

“I see, and how much is that introduction going to cost me? I don’t have any credits on me.” 

“A date.”

“A date? Really?!” You make to get up and leave, but he reaches across the table to grab your wrist, keeping you in place. You casually move your other hand to slide down your leg and seek the knife you have hidden in your boot. 

“Wait, wait...it’s not what it sounds like. Look, There’s a party at the palace tonight, and I could really use a date.” 

“I thought the palace was abandoned?”

“Nah, that's just a rumor. True, there has been a bit of a power struggle since Jabba died, but Fortuna has assumed the mantle.” 

“Go on.”

“He’s throwing some lavish party tonight to try and show off his power, flex his domain. He wants to impress the Hutt council.” 

You hesitate….”and this helps me, how?” 

“It just so happens, yours truly has an invitation.”

“You?....You have an invitation?” 

“Hey,” he says rolling his shoulders in defense. “I’m an important guy.” 

“Yeah, I’m not buying.” _No way was THIS guy an important figure in the crime syndicate._

“Ok, Ok…” he stops you again, and you really don’t like the way he doesn’t want to let go of your hand. 

“Ok, I’m NOT an important guy...YET. But I do have an invitation. I’m trying to convince him to put me on his mercenary crew.”

“You? You’re a mercenary?” you say with furrowed brows. 

“No, but HE doesn’t know that. Look….” he says squeezing your hand, “ I have an invitation to the party and they’d all take me a lot more seriously if I showed up with someone like you as a date.” 

You look at where his hand is squeezing yours. It’s an awful plan, but maybe an awful plan is better than no plan at all. _This may be my only chance, there isn’t much time. You need to leave the city before he finds you._

“All I’m asking is you show up with me, have a few drinks, pretend to have a good time. The protocol droids at the palace have information on every smuggler that’s ever passed through Mos Eisley. If this Vale guy has passed through here, they’ll know.” 

_Your time is running out, he might already know you’ve gone._

“Fine…” you say, “but we leave NOW.” 

“Alright…” he says with a roguish smile. Most women would consider it a panty-dropping smile and on most days you might agree. He’s good looking and has a nice body, but something about him is lacking. _The lack of beskar?_

“We’ll just have to make one quick stop on the way.”

“Where?” you ask, as he rises and extends a hand. 

“Can’t go to a party dressed like that.”

\-----------------------------------------------------

“It’s a bit much, don’t you think?” you say shifting uncomfortably.

“It’s considered a luxurious dress to the Huttese, and you look incredible.” Torro- as he later introduced himself- says.

Your top- if it could even be considered one- consisted of two triangular shaped pieces of chainmail, one covering each breast, that came to a point just about your waistline. The chainmail is made of tiny gold circles woven together with gold thread. It was sleeveless, backless and only secured at the top where it was attached to a choker that wrapped around your neck. A series of leather straps cover your most intimate parts and a see through navy chiffon material secured with a belt hangs from your waist down the center in the front and back, leaving your legs exposed. Your thighs are adorned with multilayered tiered garters made from the daintiest gold chains. Flat sandals are secured with straps that wrap around your calves. The lady at the shop had handed you a bottle of oil and insisted that you needed to slather it all over your body. There wasn’t much time to put effort into a hairstyle, so she wove some gold strands through a few braids around your crown and left the rest to hang freely down your back. You quickly lined your eyes with a smudge of black kohl and dabbed a tiny bit of color to your lips. You tucked the knife into the belt at your hip. _If I make it out of here in one piece, I can sell this outfit for a mint._

You didn’t trust Torro, but as you descended the stairs to the throne room, you were relieved to discover that he did indeed have an invitation. Dozens of species were in attendance. Entertainers of all sorts were performing various acts. A band played dance music while a leggy gal with a snout and painted lips belted out a song- _out of key_. There were also a half dozen armed guards lining the perimeter of the room, one at each entry and exit point. 

You scanned the room for droids finding one near Fortuna. _Must be his protocol droid._ Fortuna was sitting upon a stone throne surveying the crowd. 

“Why don’t we head over to the bar?” you suggest, deciding that you’d rather avoid Fortuna altogether.

“Nah, let’s go introduce ourselves, say hello.” 

Torro hooks his arm around your elbow and leads the way. You approach the throne and it doesn’t escape your notice that there’s a Twi-lek chained to the throne below. 

“H'chu apenkee Torro,” Fortuna says jovially, as you approach. 

Torro begins speaking in Huttese as well. You’re not entirely sure what they’re saying but the tone implies they are friendly with one another. 

“De wanna wanga,” Torro replies. 

He introduces you and it takes a great deal of effort to visibly hide your revulsion. Fortuna stares at you while Torro makes his small talk. His red eyes gleam as he taps his enormously long fingernails along a staff he holds in his hand. Eventually he addresses you in basic, “Are you his?” The question takes you off guard. Your not entirely sure what the safe answer is in this scenario, but you answer directly. 

“I belong to no one.”

He smiles a wicked smile, nearly every pointed tooth showing behind thin stretched lips. You give him your most winning smile and hope to the Maker it’s enough to hide how repulsed you are. 

“Gi Shatta Gasha! U doba, nudd chaa!.....Enjoy the party!”

Torro thanks him again for the invitation and directs you toward the bar. You look back over your shoulder, and sure enough Fortuna’s eyes never leave you. 

Torro orders a few drinks from a bartender of unknown species. You take one to be polite but have no intention of drinking it. Who knows what might be in it and you still didn’t trust the guy. When he isn’t looking, you casually dump the liquid out in increments. 

The party continues and Torro seems happy to show you off. He introduces you to a few acquaintances- all of them seem like sleazeballs. All the time, you keep an eye on Fortuna and a location on his protocol droid. As soon as the droid made a move to leave his side, you’d corner it and extract the information you came for. 

Finally, after some time waiting, Fortuna whispers an order to the droid. The droid descends the throne stairs and starts to make its way into the crowd. _It’s now or never._ You set your drink on the bar and turn to leave when Torro’s hand slides around the small of your back and around your waist, staying you. 

“Is this a great party or what?” 

“Mmmm.” _Definitely, or what._

“It’s not every day you get to see a Mandalorian.”

Your head whips around. The crowd retreats a little near the bottom of the stairs to reveal a pissed off looking Mando. He doesn’t move, his shoulders are tense and his hands are fisted. His helmet scans the room and comes to a stop when it lands on you. 

_Run._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, I love it when you leave a comment.


	7. Say the Words

“Kuba, kayaba dee anko Murishani!” Bib Fortuna commands Mando. 

Mando approaches the throne and the two begin a conversation in a mix of Huttese and Basic. 

“Hi chuba du naga Murishani?” Fortuna asks.

“I’ve come to collect something,” Mando says, and your stomach does a flip. _“_ The woman at the bar, she comes with me. We’ll go quietly...leave you to your party.” 

Fortuna’s eyes immediately find you and he smiles. 

“Ahh, the woman. Is she your bounty?”

“No.” 

Bib Fortuna dresses you directly, “Do you know him?” 

_He saved me, I saved him, a few mind blowing orgasms in the shower…_

_“_ I’ve never seen him before in my life _.”_ Fortuna smiles, he knows it’s a convenient lie. 

“The woman says she belongs to no one. If she does not belong to you, and she is in _my_ palace...then she belongs to me.” 

You’re not surprised Fortuna went that route, the scumbag had been staring at you all night. 

“Perhaps we can come to a bargain?” he says, tapping those spindly fingernails along his staff. 

“What do you want for her?” 

“Sa da ree beskar?” he practically purrs. 

Mando turns to look at you again and doesn’t answer Fortuna who quickly grows impatient. Torro’s grip grow’s tighter around your waist, pinning you to him.

“Well...Murishani?”

Mando returns his gaze to Fortuna. 

“Bargon wan che copa.” 

Bib Fortuna grows irate at Mando’s reply and commands all of the guards at the top of his lungs, “killie Murishani sleemo!”

Immediately the crowd panics and people begin running for cover in all directions. Mando’s draw is light speed fast and he gets off a few blaster shots as the guards begin to descend upon him. Torro grabs you around the waist and proceeds to manhandle you away. “Sorry about this darlin’, but I’ve got to impress the new boss.” You thrash and kick your legs in an attempt to loosen his hold. He makes the mistake of getting too close to the wall. Using the wall as a springboard, you plant your feet, bend your legs and kick out, launching you both backwards. When his back hits the bar he grunts and his grip loosens. You throw an elbow into his nose and he drops you completely.

"Bitch!" he shouts holding his bloodied nose. You run, quickly joining the scattering crowd. Your eyes scan the room searching desperately. Mando is facing off against five guards. You head in the opposite direction. Fortuna’s yells can be heard over the crowd's screams. Weapons can be heard clanking and crashing, but you can’t be distracted. There, heading towards a chamber exit, the protocol droid!

You weave your way through the panicked crowd and tackle to droid to the ground. 

“Droid, I need you to give me the contact info for a smuggler called Vale, NOW!” 

“I’m sorry Miss, I am not authorized to divulge that information without my Master’s permission.”

You pull out the knife from your waistband. “Droid! The info, NOW! Before I turn you into a pile of spare parts.” 

He sounds distressed, but repeats his earlier statement. There’s no use. His programming won’t allow the information to pass and there’s no way of getting back on Fortuna’s good side now. You abandon the droid in a grunt of frustration. The only thing left to do is run. With any luck, the remaining guards will hold Mando off long enough to give you a head start. Leaving through the main entrance seems like the obvious choice, so you elect for an anteroom chamber instead. You don’t want to end up out in the wide open where Mando will easily find you. 

The outer chamber leads in two opposite directions. One appears to be a stairwell leading down to the dungeons. Deciding that there is likely no exits near the dungeons, you head in the other direction down a long corridor. There are dozens of rooms on both sides of the hall. Many seem to be generator and droid repair rooms. You run as fast as you can past them until you come to a descending stairwell. Taking your chances you continue downward. The stairs open into another long hall and you begin running as fast as you can. The potent smell of heavy spices stings your nose and your lungs begin to burn. They must be spice processing rooms, which also means there must be a smuggler's tunnel nearby. You run to the very end, and sure enough there is another stairwell, this one hidden by a discrete curtain. You continue down further into the bowels of the palace and pray to the Maker that there will be a way out. 

The last stairway opens into a tunnel that looks as if it may have been an abandoned mine shaft. The walls are carved from earth and appear to be supported by questionable looking supports. Back against the wall, you stop and take several deep breaths listening for any followers. You committed to this plan when you came down here and there’s no turning back, but the idea of entering the dark tunnel, it takes you right back to being trapped in the hole and you hesitate. Your chest begins to ache and panic sets in. _You can do this. Run!_

You take a last deep breath and start to sprint. The tunnel is void of any generated light, but every fifty feet or so a ray of sunlight shines down from above. As you pass under one of them, you look up to find skylights are dug into the tunnel above. _I can do this._ You continue to run as fast as you can. Finally, what must be fifty or so yards ahead you can make out a light at the end of the tunnel. You pump your arms faster. _Almost there._

Until, your body is suddenly reeling forward and you come down hard on your chest, the knife you were carrying flies out of your hand. Something has grabbed onto your leg and is pulling you backwards. You roll onto your back and start kicking out. _Mando._ Mando has released his repelling wire and it is currently wrapped around your ankle. He turns around and begins walking in the opposite direction, tugging you behind him. His other hand is on his blaster and he’s firing shots down the hall at an enemy you can’t see. The enemy returns fire that goes ricocheting off the walls. The ancient structures begin to lose their integrity as large chunks of dirt and rock rain down from the ceiling. 

Mando continues firing and deflecting blasts all while towing you back toward the source. 

“What’s wrong with you? There was a way out back there!” you shout. He doesn’t answer, just continues dragging you by your tethered ankle backwards. Suddenly, several large blasts begin hitting from the opposite end- the end you were running towards. _They’ve got us trapped._

“Let me go!” you shout again, rolling back onto your stomach. You try and fail to find purchase, raking furrows into the ground as you try to kick and claw your way loose of the wire. Another blast rocks the tunnel, causing a particularly large chunk of rock to land a foot away from your head. 

“Faster you kriffing idiot!” 

That stops Mando in his tracks. He retracts his repelling wire and yanks you up by the arm and backs you up against the wall. His arms cage you in on either side of your head and he stares down into your eyes through the black T of his visor. 

“I told you not to run from me.” His low modulated voice sends a shiver down your spine that unexpectedly runs straight to your pussy. _His tone._

You smirk, “Because you’ll find me...I know.”

He leans in desperately close to your ear. If it weren’t for the helmet, you’d almost think he was going to kiss you. Instead he says, “ and because I like it.” 

He pulls back and looks you in the eyes again. He’s waiting for a reaction but you’re caught off guard by what he said. A loud beeping noise sounds and a blinking object catches your peripherals. Mando pulls you in front of him and spins you both around. An explosion flashes behind you. A blast of hot air whips the silk around your legs, but Mando’s body shields you from the blast. The tunnel caves in between you and the intruders. They’ve trapped you in the tunnel, the only exit fortified at the end with a group of armed guards waiting. 

“They’re going to bury us alive here! This is all your fault!” 

He grabs you by the arm and pulls you until you come to stand in the ray of light peeking through from above. He pulls you in hard, squeezing you against his chest. 

“Hold on tight.” 

You look up to see The skylight carved into the terrain overhead. 

“No kriffing way! I don’t think those packs were made to carry two.”

“They’re not.”

Mando extends his wrist and somehow activates the jetpack. You hold on for dear life, your arms wrapping around his neck. Before you have time to voice your dismay, you're shooting upwards through a crevice only a few feet wide. Mando uses his blaster to shoot out the glass before you reach the top and the both of you slip through and escape the tunnel. He disengages the packs as soon as you’re out and you both come back down to the ground. It’s a rocky landing, but you both manage to stay on your feet. Beyond belief, there’s not a scratch on you. Mando somehow threaded both your bodies through the skylight like a thread through a needle. 

Wasting no time, Mando leads you by the hand. Unaware of your hasty exit, the remaining guards are all waiting where the tunnel exit was. _Probably think we were buried alive._ There is little to no resistance in the way of guards as Mando heads in the opposite direction. Mando decides to avoid the Dune Sea and the Bantha Plains and opts instead to follow the recent tracks of another Jawa sandcrawler in the hopes that it will lead to Bestine. 

____________________________________________________

Once the looming citadel is no longer in sight and Mando is sure your tracks aren't being followed, he drops your hand and rounds on you. 

“Why did you run? I told you not to run.”

“Isn’t running precisely what bounties are supposed to do?” you say sarcastically.

“You’re not my bounty… not anymore.” 

“I’m sorry, I guess it was the whole turning me in that has me confused then.”

Mando sighs. 

“I did turn you over...and then I came back for you….and now, I’m here to help you, but I can’t do that if you’re going to run every chance you get.”

“I don’t need your help, not anymore. I can handle myself.”

“Yeah, it sure looked like you had things under control back there.”

You step closer to Mando, shoving at his chest, but the man is like a brick wall and doesn’t flinch. “I did!” I had a plan in place...a plan that would have worked if you wouldn’t have come in and screwed it all up!”

Mando guffaws, “Do you have any idea what was about to happen? A few more minutes and you would have been chained up, a plaything for Fortuna...or that kid you were cozying up with.” _Do I detect a note of jealousy in there?_

“Like I said, I had a plan.”

“And what was your grand plan? What were you doing there anyhow?”

“That’s none of your concern.” you say turning away. 

“Everything you do now is my concern!” he grates. 

“Why should I believe you? How do I know you’re not just delivering me to the next highest bidder or getting paid to transport me to a new location?” 

“Because, I am telling you now, I’ve sworn an oath to keep you safe, it is my only priority.”

“And, do I get a say in this?”

“No.” he says bluntly.

“That’s not good enough,” you say turning back to face him. “I’m afraid this is where we go our separate ways.” 

“Separate... ways?”

You prop a hip out and cross your arms. “I’m not going with you.”

Mando steps forward and into your personal space, causing you to stand up straight, losing a touch of your resolve. You have to crane your neck back just to look up into his visor, but you hold your ground. 

“You’re coming with me…. if it means I have to throw you over my shoulder and haul your ass all the way across this kriffing desert...you _are_ coming with me.”

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Maybe Mando _is_ a man of his word, because when you refused to move, he _did_ indeed toss you over his shoulder and was hauling your ass across the desert. It wasn’t the shoulder pauldron digging into your hip. It wasn’t the awkwardness of dangling head down next to his jetpack. It was the fact that he had handcuffed your hands behind your back first, that really rankled. 

“This isn’t necessary. I’ll walk.”

“You had your chance.”

You attempt to knee his chest plate again. You can’t get enough leverage to do any damage- other than bruising your own knee- but there is a small satisfaction in knowing that you’re not making it easy for him.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you. My hand might slip.”

“You’ll drop me?”

“No.” Your brows tighten as you try to understand his meaning. He has one hand wrapped around the back of your thigh and starts to move it upward. _Comprehension._

“You wouldn’t.”

“Wouldn’t I? For the trouble you’ve caused me, I should place you over my lap and spank you.” 

Your legs go still, you stop kicking. 

He lets out a soft chuckle. “Don’t like the sound of that huh?”

You didn’t, but for some reason, the idea of him spanking you out in the open where anybody could see, made a warmth pool between your legs. 

“At least take these cuffs off, they’re digging into my wrists.”

“Just say the words and I will.”

You silently consider it. It's the same argument you've been having over the past hour.

“C’mon, All you have to say is that you promise you won’t run again and the cuffs come off.”

It was such a simple thing to say. _Five little words._ It was so stupid. You could say the words and the cuffs would come off. You could say them and it didn’t mean you’d have to actually obey the words. You could run at the next opportunity. But somewhere deep down, you just felt if you said the words with no intention of following them, then your word wasn’t good- and then you’d be no better than he was. Or, maybe it was the fact that you could be the most stubborn person in the galaxy and simply did not want to give him the satisfaction. Whatever the reason, you weren’t ready to say them. Instead of saying the words, you deliver another kick, this time you feel your foot narrowly miss his groin.

“THIS is your final warning... one more kick, one more anything... and I WILL haul your ass over my lap.” A tingle runs down your spine but you’re also fuming at his words. _The nerve._

“If you would just take the cuffs off!”

“You know what to say if you want the cuffs to come off.”

“Ahhhh!” You growl out in frustration. “Let me get this straight…. When I _WAS_ a bounty, I walked around freely, you left me alone and even showed kindness. _Now,_ you say I’m _NOT_ your bounty, and I’m shackled and being held against my will?!?” 

“Pretty much.”

You inhale for patience, “You must be the worst bounty hunter in the galaxy.”

Mando comes to an abrupt stop. You swallow thickly. _Perhaps I said too much._

Mando turns and walks a few paces off the trail. 

“Wait, what are you doing?! I didn’t mean it!” _Panic._

“I think you did,” he says, stopping to turn and plant himself down on a rock. He lifts you up off his shoulders and settles you face down on your stomach across his lap. 

“You can’t possibly mean to do this, I’m not a youngling!” 

“You’re acting like one.”

“What are you going to do?” you ask, nervously. 

“Teach you a lesson.” 

Your cheeks flush with embarrassment. Mando sweeps the train of fabric covering your ass aside. If it weren’t for the strip of leather running in between your legs, you’d be completely exposed, ass up in the air. 

It’s hard to see what he’s doing. You try to look over your shoulder behind you, but with your hands restrained and all the blood that’s been rushing to your head over the last mile, you can’t hold your neck like that for long. You hear the sounds of leather brushing leather and the jolt of his arm. He places his hand in front of your face and drops his now removed glove to the ground. _He intends to use his bare hand to spank me?_

“You're not really going to…”

_SLAP_

_He did it….he actually did it._

"Hey!"

The slap didn’t hurt, it was an injury to your pride more than anything. 

“ _That..._ is for running from me.” he grates out. 

“Are you mental or something? Knock it off!”

He ignores you and begins rubbing his palm in slow circles in the place he just spanked you. 

_SLAP_

It still doesn’t hurt- just has the slightest sting on impact, but before you can voice your complaint, he’s rubbing those slow circles across your flesh again. 

“ _That…_ is for knowingly placing yourself in danger with that...that scrawny looking shyster.” 

“I didn’t! I mean… I did. But it was part of my plan. It was a means to an end.” you protest.

“And what end might that be?”

You don’t answer. He can’t know your plans or he’ll be able to anticipate your every move. 

_Silence_

_Slap_

This one comes a tad harder than the last because your skin is growing sensitive. His calloused fingers begin rubbing soothing circles over your skin again. The combination of sting followed by his gentle rubbing is starting to do something to you. Your pussy begins to ache and horror of horrors, you’re starting to get wet from it. _This is depraved, what's wrong with me?_

“ _That..._ is for keeping secrets that put you in danger.”

You fluster and start move, trying to wiggle your way free.

“Mmm, don’t do that…..” he groans. 

His words from the tunnel come roaring back into your mind. _Because he likes it._

Sure enough you can feel his arousal pressing hard against your hip. His gentle caresses turn into firmer kneading. _Why is this turning me on so much?_

“Are you ready to stop running yet...or shall I continue?”

You’re beginning to pant with anticipation. _You can end it now, just tell him what he wants to hear._

“Just say the words...and I’ll stop. Just tell me you won’t run anymore.”

You don’t.

 _Slap...Slap._ He surprises you with two in quick succession. 

“ _That_ … is for nearly kicking me in the balls...and ... _That,_ lovely girl….is for shredding every single shirt I own, into ribbons.”

The last one stings. You twist your neck around and can just make out the shape of a pink handprint on your ass. So he found the little gift you left him? The satisfaction of it puts a wicked grin on your face. 

“Less than you deserved…” you manage to say. 

He soothes the spot with light circles again, but then stops to run the tip of his finger just under the edge of the leather strap covering your intimate places. 

“I wonder...If I move this aside, will I find you wet for me?” _Yes. Yes you will._

“No.”

_Slap_

“Don’t lie to me. I can already see it…... You’re so wet it’s dripping down the inside of your thighs.”

The words flood your body with warmth. You’d die of embarrassment if his voice didn’t sound so... admiring. 

“Maybe it’s not for _YOU?”_

The words are out of your mouth before you can stop them. His hand stills and you squeeze your eyes shut. 

The _Slap_ doesn’t come this time.

“ _Tsk tsk..._ that’s not a very nice thing to say.”

This time he dips his finger fully under the leather strap and runs it back and forth underneath the fabric. His finger slides easily through the moisture gathering and brushes against your pussy. A shiver runs over your whole body and you find yourself raising your hips eagerly for more contact. 

“I’m going to show you...I can take good care of you...if you let me.”

You can’t help the soft whimper that escapes your lips. 

“Are you going to let me take care of you?”

“Mmmm” is all you offer. You know he wants the words but you still refuse to say them. 

He hooks his finger under the strap and pulls it to the side. The evening air tickles as it kisses your moistened flesh. Mando groans deeply at the sight of your exposed pussy. 

“So pretty.”

You moan when he begins rubbing his palm against it in slow circles the same way he did to your ass before. When his hand momentarily leaves you, you tense up, suddenly remembering what follows. But he returns with his hand again, no slap this time. _He's playing with you._ His thick fingers begin sliding through your folds, slipping back and forth down the center of your slit, but never penetrate. Your heart thunders. His hand feels so fucking good running down your slick. 

“See….see how good I can make you feel? See how I can take care of you when you let me?” His voice sounds strangled, like maybe this is getting to him too.

“Just say the words and I’ll take good care of you.” 

You don’t. But push your hips backward, trying to impale yourself on his fingers.

“Lovely girl….you need more don’t you?”

To this, you are willing to answer. “Mmm, y- yes...I need more.”

“More what? Tell me what you need?”

“More...I need...need your fingers inside me.”

He groans, and through his voice modulator it sounds almost like a growl. 

He takes his time gathering your arousal on two fingers before slowly sinking through your folds and penetrates your core. He’s an expert with his hands, knowing exactly where to concentrate his efforts. 

“So kriffing tight…” he says through gritted teeth. He begins plunging his fingers in and out, sometimes twisting, sometimes spreading his two fingers on the retreat. 

“Let me take care of you.” he pleads. “Just say the words and let me take care of you.” 

He sounds like he’s on the verge too, almost like he’s in pain. His cock is rock hard against you and the thought of it is pushing you closer to the edge.

Somehow, you manage a pathetic “No.”

He increases his pace, thrusting until his fingers bottom out against his palm. You’re close. 

“Look how you soak my hand...going to come right on top of it, aren’t you?”

_Maker, yes._

He slides his other hand under you and starts rubbing your clit with his still gloved hand as he fingers your pussy. 

_So close._

“You’re right there aren't you?" _What is it about that modulated voice, so sexy._

You’re climbing to the peak, ready to throw yourself over and come all over his hand. _Almost there._

He groans and pulls out completely. Your pussy clamps down on nothing and you cry out at the loss. He adjusts the leather strap, placing it back where it belongs, and stands up, pulling you back onto your feet with him. 

“What the hell Mando, what was that!?” you shout, your miniscule skirt falling back into place. 

He reaches down to pick up his glove and adjusts his hard-on. He walks away giving you his back. 

“I told you….” he says lifting his helmet up off his face and back a little. He’s facing away so you can’t see his face, but he takes a second to lick his fingers before dropping the helmet and slides his glove back on. 

“Stop running….and I’ll take care of you.” 

____________________________________________

Night had fallen. Mando had secured a small spot for the night underneath the overhang of a cliff. It wasn’t much, but the wall behind you served as a partial windbreak and there was enough dry foliage around for a temporary fire. You tried to ignore Mando, staring into the hypnotizing flicker of flames, but were acutely aware that his gaze hadn’t left your face for the last half hour. 

“Why?” he asks, interrupting your daze.

“Why what?”

“Why are you so stubborn?” 

It’s a fair question and not the first time in your life someone has asked. The caretakers at the orphanage would often accuse you of the same. 

“Why do you need to hear the words so badly?”

He crosses his ankles, and despite wearing a suit of armor, looks completely relaxed. 

“Because, I know that when you say them, you’ll mean it….and I’ll feel a lot better knowing I don’t have to worry about you running every time I turn my back or close my eyes.”

You don’t respond. You just roll your shoulders- they are incredibly achy from being pulled back with the handcuffs for hours. 

“I can relieve that ache, you know…and any other aches you may have.” 

You give him an icy cold look in response. Your body did ache, in the worst way. Never, have you ever been brought so close to release only to be denied. Now you were teetering on a hair pin trigger- your body wound so tight it was hard to think past the ache. If your wrists weren’t bound behind your back you’d take matters into your own hands.

“What are you thinking right now?”

“I’m thinking I’d rather relieve the ache myself.” 

He continues to stare at you and you wish desperately that you could see his face, read his reaction to your honest words. 

“That, lovely girl...is the best idea you’ve had all day.”

You’re surprised. You didn’t expect him to agree with you. Will he loosen your cuffs just to allow you to get yourself off? Because if so, you might actually try.

“Really?” you ask, hopeful. 

“Yeah.”

Mando leans back a little and unbuckles his belt. Your brows furrow as you try to figure out what he’s doing. He tucks the pad that sits between his chest and his armor up underneath the plate and unbuttons his fly.

“Oh, you bastard! You’re not gonna do that here, when I’m tied up like this!”

Mando ignores your protest and unzips his fly. 

“You don’t have to watch if you don’t want to.” Your chest starts heaving with anger, but you can’t look away. Staring at you, he removes one glove at a time before dipping his hand below the waistband of his pants. He adjusts the pants allowing his cock to spring free. Below the toned muscles of his flat stomach, his shaft jerks in his palm. 

_He’s big. Really big._

He begins to stroke himself, rocking upward into his fist. His helmet never dips. _He's looking at me only._ Mesmerized by the intoxicating sight, you momentarily forget about your anger and shuffle closer on your knees. The sight of his body clad head to toe in armor, save for his exposed cock is highly erotic. He maintains a slow pace, not one to rush through it- he takes his time, savors it. 

“I can help you….if you release my hands...I can help you.,” and you mean every word. You want nothing more than to take that thick cock into your own hands, feel his silky smooth skin under your grasp. _Why does he have this effect on me?_

“Say the words...and I will.” 

You move closer until you are straddling his leg. You continue to shuffle nearer, hypnotized by his hand movements. He thrusts his hip upwards, as if his cock is seeking you too. He strokes the length and your mouth begins to water at the sight of the flared head. His hands are rough and he can’t lift his helmet to lick his own palms. You want to sooth that dryness with your tongue, run it along the prominent vein running down the side and suck on the head. 

Legs now straddling his thigh, you spread them wider until your pussy comes to rest on his beskar thigh plate. You start to grind yourself, hoping you can get off this way. The friction is delicious, but not enough to send you over the edge. When he realizes what you’re doing, he groans and begins stroking himself faster. A translucent bead of pre-cum forms on the head and you lick your lips wantonly. _What would he taste like?_

“Stars woman! What you do to me...”

He drops eye contact, throws his head back and groans as he releases hot cum into his hand. It’s a fucking glorious sight. You’re simultaneously in awe and disappointment for the loss of your own release. His chest rises and falls with heavy breaths as you both come down from the high. He tucks his shaft back into his pants, effectively extinguishing any lingering hopes you had of finding your own climax. Your body is nearly shaking with the pent up release it craves but you’re too tired to complain any longer. It must be written all over your face, because Mando sighs, pulling you closer. He enters a sequence on his vambrace and the cuffs come loose. You sigh with relief as the tension on your shoulders dissipates. He brings your arms around to the front and re-cuffs them. You don’t bother to object, it’s not ideal but it’s progress. 

“So you can sleep.” he says. 

You take a deep breath and he pulls you close, your back leaning into his chest. He pulls off his cloak and throws it over you like a blanket. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, I love to read comments.
> 
> Shameless plug: just dropped a new Mando sticker in my shop, you can find it here: https://www.etsy.com/listing/954061503/mando-mandalorian-helmet-din-djarin?ref=shop_home_active_1&frs=1
> 
> Also, this video has been on repeat in my head, it's timed to the music so well: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hC-_NV1Cns4


	8. The Chains

Chapter 8 

The twin suns are scorching in the sky above. You silently curse the shop owner that insisted on oiling up your skin for last yesterday’s soirée. Sure, it looked great at the time, but now your skin felt like it was literally frying under the heated rays. Even worse, the dainty gold chain garters that looked so fabulous yesterday, are now chafing the insides of your thighs and the chainmail top is shredding your nipples with every jostled step. Dirt and grit coat your feet and the occasional breeze brings with it a coating of dust that stings your eyes. Toss in a heavy dose of sexual frustration after last night and it’s the perfect recipe for physical misery. 

Mando, walking several yards ahead pays no attention to your grumbles of frustration. Every so often, he stops and holds up the canteen for you to drink from. Of course, you insist that you can do it yourself, but you suspect he likes watching the few wayward drops trickle down your chin, your neck and lower, when he holds it out for you to drink from. Aside from that, he has been particularly silent this morning, moody, cold even. You think he might be frustrated with you, mumbling something about “stubborn woman,” under his breath while packing up this morning. 

His pace is quick, and unlike your first trek to find the Razor Crest, this time he makes no effort to slow down or help you across difficult terrain. You despise every rock and bramble on the ground, having tripped twice already after catching a toe of the open sandals. Though he had thankfully left you handcuffed with your arms in front today, the awkwardness still left you a bit clumsy, continually fighting against your arms falling asleep. 

_Ooof._ Your toe catches on a small crevice, sending you crashing to your knees. Luckily, you don’t faceplant, but the impact still stings. You awkwardly get back on your feet and move the swath of fabric aside to assess the damage. Just a minor scrape across your right knee, but enough that it drew a little blood. You grab the silk and gently start to dab at the smudge of blood. Before you can finish, your arms are yanked forward. Mando is still walking several yards ahead, but apparently there was enough distance between you both to cause the cuffs to pull you forward- an invisible leash linked between Mando’s data pad and the cuffs. Your temper flares, you’ve had enough of this! You pick up an egg sized rock and palm it in your fist. You’ll undoubtedly miss, what with your hands being cuffed, but take aim at the back of his head anyway. You raise your arms above your right shoulder, pull back and send the rock whizzing through the air.

_Clank._ The rock misses it's intended target- his head- but the sound of it making impact as it hits the back of his jetpack instead, sends a satisfying thrill through your body. You quickly scoop up another rock and send it hurtling towards him. He turns just in time to duck out of it’s path, sweeping his arm out in front of his helmet in a blocking gesture. 

“What the….?” he steps aside avoiding a third rock. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I’ll tell you what I’m _not_ doing...I’m _not_ taking another step until you remove these cuffs.”

Mando quickly begins walking towards you, causing you to stutter step for a moment. He’s still so intimidating in that suit of armor, though you’re fairly certain at this point, that he wouldn’t hurt you physically. You swallow the lump forming in your throat as he approaches and quickly grab another rock. You chuck it at him, the movement awkward, and this time he makes no move to block it, letting it hit him square in the chest. He wants you to see how silly it is. You _know_ throwing rocks is futile. Of course they won’t do any actual damage against beskar. _But it still feels good to see them hit their target._ You have just enough time to snatch up another rock. You start backing up, trying to put space between the two of you. He’s 3 strides away...two...one...You raise your cuffed hands up, ready to pitch, but he catches you by the wrists and holds your arms in place above your head. 

He stares down at you for a second, and you stare right back into the black t of his visor, hoping that you’re glaring at him right into his eyes. 

“Drop the rock.”

There’s no point in hanging onto it in this position, with his hands still locked on your arms just under your wrists. You flick your wrist the best you can and send the rock skittering across the ground. 

“Remove the cuffs.” You say, calling on your most authoritative voice. 

“You want the cuffs off? You know what to do.” 

_Why? Why must I be so stubborn about this? Why can I not just say the words and give him what he wants? Because my pride already hurts too much from being caught so stupidly._

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed...but I’m not exactly dressed for a trek across the desert.”

He is silent for a moment and then responds. “I noticed.”

Inhaling for patience, you continue, ”My skin is burning, the insides of my thighs are shredded from these chains, this top feels like a cheese grater across my nipples, these sandals have zero support and every time I fall a step behind, these…” you indicate with a wiggle of your wrists, “send me nearly crashing onto my face.”

He sighs, “Alright.”

Mando inhales deeply and lets go of your wrists. He drops down to his knees, his helmet inches from your waist. 

Startled, you yelp, “What are you doing?” 

“Fixing the problem.” He sits back on his heels a bit, bringing his eyeline down lower. He sweeps the fabric aside and assesses the chains. They are attached to the belt at your waist in several places and hang down where they intersect in several tiers around your upper legs. He gingerly grasps the belt and the chain and gives it a yank at the place where they connect. The chain breaks free from the belt and begins to loosen. He sweeps his gloved hand around to the next point of connection, again yanking the chain free without ripping the waistband itself. Hands on your waist, he maneuvers you to turn so he can repeat the process on the backside. You blush, recalling the last time he was this close to this area and the things he had done. He spins you back around and slides his gloved hands up around your thigh. He hooks his fingers in the now detached chain encircling your thigh and slowly slides them down your leg. 

An image sweeps across your mind of him down on his knees in front of you like this for an entirely different reason. You imagine him removing his helmet, as you toss a leg over his shoulder, giving him complete access to feast on you. A warmth begins to pool between your legs. _Don’t think about that right now...You’re mad at him!_

He repeats the process of removing the chains on the other leg, pausing to assess the damage they have done. You prop a knee out to look for yourself and sure enough, the chains have abraded the skin badly, leaving small slashes and tender flesh. His fingers linger a moment, even after he has removed the chains. “This will need to be cleaned...when we get back to the ship.”

He reaches up and begins ripping away the hanging fabric from the belt.

“Hey, what are you doing that for?” you step back, brows furrowed. 

He tightens his grip on the silk and wraps it around his wrist once before giving it a hard yank. It pulls you back toward him before the last threads give way, the sounds of stitches being ripped, and the entire piece of cloth providing you any modesty at all, falls to the ground. Thankfully your intimate places are still covered, but with your legs now entirely revealed, you feel very exposed. 

Mando gets back on his feet, cloth in hand. 

“What’s the big idea? I liked that particular part of the outfit!” 

He ignores your protest. “Turn around.”

You exhale a frustrated breath, but do as he asks. You turn around, giving him your back, but rotate your neck to peer over your shoulder. 

Mando begins removing the ties at the back of your neck- the only thing holding your top in place. You think to protest, but the thought is quickly forgotten when he pulls the tie loose and the top falls to the ground. Your head falls back, eyes closing in bliss as the air hits your sensitive nipples bringing sweet relief. You look down. Your chest is raw from the chafing chainmail. Mando pulls the length of fabric taut between his hands, behind you. 

“Arms up.” he commands in that modulated voice. 

You obey, understanding what he intends. His hands reach out and under your arms, bringing the length of fabric with them. His chest presses into your back as he looks down over your shoulder at his hands. He crosses the fabric, switching ends between his hands and pulls the tail ends up and over your shoulders. The fabric now crosses over your breasts, effectively covering them with the silky material. He grasps the two ends in one hand, using the other to sweep your hair to the side and out of the way. He ties the ends securely behind your neck, effectively fashioning a brand new top for you- one that won’t continue to shred your skin. 

Knot secured, you turn to face him, letting your hair fall back into position. Though the fabric is somewhat transparent, the way it bunches and gathers across your chest is enough to provide you with a modicum of modesty. One would have to really stare to make out your nipples through the fabric. 

Not sure what to say, you stand in silence. He takes you in, assessing his handiwork, but seems unsatisfied. He reaches up to his shoulder and unsnaps his cloak, bringing it around behind you to settle over your shoulders. You suddenly feel like a child whose mother is preparing them to go out and play in the snow. The amount of care and consideration he is showing- so at odds with the mood he’s been in all morning. Your anger lessens a degree at his sudden gentleness. _A very small degree._

He snaps the cloak, securing it under your neck. His gloved fingers move to grasp your chin, tilting your head up. He takes in your face and drops his hand, seeming satisfied. _His_ cloak _._ This will be the third time he’s given it to you. It occurs to you that it can’t possibly be the same cloak- you left the last one in a pile on the floor of Dr. Pershing’s science lab. 

“And the cuffs?” you deign to ask. 

“The cuffs stay on...until we get back to the ship...or until you give me your word you won’t run.” 

Anger flares again at his response. He turns his back and resumes his trekking. You remain still, contemplating the pointlessness of more rock throwing, but the decision is abandoned when the cuffs, once again spur you into motion with that invisible leash. You shoot daggers with your eyes, gaze trained on the back of his shiny new suit- the suit he earned for turning you in- and opt for a stream of expletives and low blows instead. “Didn’t choose red this time, huh Mando?” you chide staring at the suit. “What’s the silver stand for…..treachery?”

He comes to an abrupt halt and turns to face you once more. He hits a button on his vambrace’s data pad that beckons the cuffs to reel you in. 

You don’t make it ten steps when a blaster shot rings out from behind a rock hitting Mando on the side of his helmet. The shot ricochets off the beskar, sending the blast off into the atmosphere, and spins Mando on his toes. You throw your cuffed hands up to shield your face. Several raiders reveal themselves as they leap out from behind a rock bordering the gully. One appears alien in form, his masked face disguising his true species. The second appears to be a Nikto- his craggy tan colored skin and small horns blend seamlessly with the current landscape. The third is human- one of the largest you have ever seen. He must be pushing 6, 4”, his heavily muscled arms on display in his sleeveless vest. He wears an odd pair of binocs over his shaved head. They are all strapped with various weapons and ammunition. 

_Were they watching as Mando undressed me?_

The Nikto fires two more shots in succession, both deflected wildly by Mando’s armor. The Nikto shouts an order to the tall human to “get the girl” while the other two engage Mando in hand to hand combat. Mando’s helmet turns to you and he yells for you to “run.” You don’t waste a second of time. The huge human with a blaster in his hand turns his sights to you. You begin to run in the opposite direction- the direction from whence you came. You don’t make it far before the cuffs seemingly halt in mid air, causing your body to whip back around in place. You try to pull, throwing all your weight in to fight the magnetism, but it’s like trying to pull a bantha out of quicksand. Your feet slip and slide, finding no purchase on the sandy flats. That invisible tether is holding you in place, preventing you from moving beyond the boundary programmed into them.

You begin to panic and a small shriek sounds from somewhere deep in your chest. The large human is closing in and has a blaster in hand. You continue to pull, however fruitless the effort. Mando must have realized what was happening because he is able to fire off a single shot that sends the blaster flying out of the guy's hand before taking a hard hit to the head.

With the big guy being temporarily disarmed, you make a quick decision to try and outrun him. You'll have to head back in Mando’s direction. You spring forward and sprint around trying to avoid the human’s reach, but your foot slides out on the slippery sand causing you to lose your momentum. Solid arms entangle your waist and lift your body up and into the air. You kick your legs, wildly thrashing your body in hopes he’ll lose his grip on you. Arms bound by the cuffs, you’re unable to deliver an effective blow with an elbow or even land a punch. You desperately kick your heels into his shins but he doesn’t waiver under your assault. He’s a massive wall of unmoving muscle. He unsheathes something by his hip and you suddenly feel the sharp bite of a blade under your chin, causing you to still. The guy squeezes you tightly to his chest and shifts so that you’re both facing Mando’s direction. The Nikto is wielding a larger than life machete type of blade. Sparks fly out when Mando ducks his swing and the blade makes contact with a rock face instead. The Nikto swings again, but Mando catches his wrist with both hands and is astonishingly, is able to wrestle the blade out of his grip. Mando turns the blade on it’s former owner, arcing his arm out in a full swing. A stream of blood spurts through the air as the blade slices across the Nikto’s jugular. 

The masked alien charges, smashing Mando up against the rock, causing the blade to fall free from his hands. Mando groans at the impact. He returns a punch to the guy’s ribs, sending him reeling backwards while a fourth alien- one you hadn’t even realized was there- attacks him from the side. Mando deflects a small knife- hardly effective against a suit of beskar armor. The masked alien is back on his feet, him and his friend now attacking in unison. Mando flicks his wrist and somehow ignites two flying darts from his vambrace. The darts whiz through the air with a sharp whistle before penetrating the two raiders in their heads, killing them instantly. Their bodies crumple into themselves, two fleshy piles littering the ground.

Mando quickly turns and assesses _your_ situation. He slowly takes steps toward you and the guy locked on to you, holding his hands up in a surrendering display. 

“Stop right there, don’t come any closer.” The male says in basic, spitting his words over your shoulder. His voice sounds desperate, but the guy did just watch Mando take out all three of his friends in the span of a few seconds. _Desperate people often resort to desperate measures._

Your legs dangle a good foot above the ground and the blade beneath your chin starts to dig deeper as he loosens his grip on your body slightly. 

“Wait, don’t hurt her.” Mando practically growls, coming to a stop. You do your best to remain still and try to give Mando an expression that communicates you are okay.

“If you put one mark on her, there’s no place you’ll be able to hide from me.” The threat lingers in the air and stirs something deep in your belly. The man tenses at Mando’s words, causing you to wince a little. You can tell the guy has weighed his chances and is starting to panic at the likely outcome. 

Mando relaxes his posture a touch and uses a more soothing tone in an effort to placate the guy. Arms still open in a perceived truce, you wonder if he plans to once again use his whistling birds. _But how the hell might they decipher the difference between your head and this guys?_

You have to lift your chin up to ease the pressure of the blade tip as your body begins to slide down his chest a millimeter at a time. Mando surprises you, offering to deal instead. 

“We can strike a bargain. What do you want for her?”

The guy hesitates, but must come to the conclusion that walking away with anything is better than not walking away at all. He scans Mando’s suit, probably doing a mental calculation of it’s substantial value. 

“The jetpack, hand it over,” he barks. 

“Fine.” 

Mando moves his arms behind his back causing the guy to startle, “Slowly! Keep your hands where I can see them!”

“Okay.” Mando moves slowly, cautious not to alarm the guy again. The pack _beeps_ and releases a small sound of compressed air as Mando unclicks it from his back. He pulls it off and around, stepping forward to place it upright on the ground in front of you. 

“Here, it’s yours.... take it.” 

The raider removes the knifepoint from under your chin and points it to Mando instead. 

“Backup!” He shouts. 

Mando keeps his hands up and steps back, maintaining an unthreatening demeanor.

The big guy’s grip on your body loosens, allowing you to slide down his chest until you feel your feet make contact with the ground. He grabs you behind the neck and your body stiffens at the contact. Slowly, he pushes your body forward, careful to keep you as a shield between him and Mando. You swallow a lump in your throat as his grip tightens, silently commanding you to stop when you reach the pack. You remain still as he releases his clutch on your neck and bends down to collect the pack. Mando keeps his hands in the air. The guy hugs the pack close to his chest with one arm while keeping the knife extended out in with his other. He checks his surroundings and takes off at a dead run, seeming satisfied to be leaving the situation with both his life and apparently, a lot richer. You have no doubt that that pack would be worth a shipload of credits. 

You release a breath you didn’t realize you had been holding. You have the strange urge to run to Mando’s arms. _Would he hold me? Comfort me? He gave up his pack….for me?_ But doubt resurfaces and any thoughts of seeking comfort are quickly squashed and replaced by your new friend, _Doubt_ . _Because I am worth more credits on the open market than his jetpack._

Mando taps in a sequence on his vambrace. It makes a small beep sound as it sends a signal to the jetpack. The rockets flare to life, twin streams of smoke and exhaust streak the air as the jetpack takes flight, it’s new owner still hugging it tightly.

You turn to Mando, his stance is one of relaxation. He looks so at home, so in his element. It almost rankles how casual the whole situation is to him. 

The raider maintains his grasp for only a second before he’s lifted into the air hundreds of feet. The jetpack springs forth, his grip lost. The offender plummets back to the ground with a loud _thud,_ a cloud of impact dust signals his new resting place. 

Mando presses a few more buttons, directing the pack to come back down. It hovers, lowering itself for a soft textbook landing. The pack turns off and tips over with a soft _thunk._

“Are you okay?” he asks, his voice calm and controlled. _No, he didn’t give up his pack for you, didn’t need to give up anything as it turns out._

The realization causes you to snap. You move forward shoving Mando in the chest as hard as you can. He takes a step back as you begin to pummel at his chest plate with your cuffed fists. It’s pointless of course, he probably can’t even feel it through the armor, but it feels good to act out your frustrations nonetheless. 

“What are you doing?” his modulated voice says, sounding confused. 

“Take these kriffing cuffs off!” you demand.

“Stop it! This is beskar... You’re only going to hurt yourself!” he says, catching your wrists in his hands once again. You fight against the maneuver, but he’s a lot stronger than you. “Stop it!” he repeats, pulling your arms in until they are pressed up against his chest and you can’t move them. “Cool it.” he says a little calmer as your struggle subsides. You stop fighting as you're seemingly locked into position. Your chest rises and falls with heavy breaths from the momentary exertion. You try to focus, try to temper the wrath long enough to make your point. 

“These cuffs almost got me killed!” 

“You seem....unharmed.”

“You told me to run, but I couldn’t! Don’t you understand? I couldn’t leave the boundary you’ve set. Then, I couldn’t fight back, couldn’t defend myself. You’ve left me vulnerable like this!” 

He pauses. “I’m here to protect you, I defended you.”

“But what if you weren’t? What if one of them had gotten the upper hand on you? You would have doomed me, served me up on a silver platter….AGAIN!” You add the last word hoping it needles any sort of guilt he might be harboring for turning you in. _I’m not above it._

He’s silent, studying your face.

“Don’t you get it? I don’t want to have to depend on anyone to save me….again...ever.” your voice growing quieter with each word. Tears prick your eyes but you refuse to let them fall. 

“I’m not weak.” 

He waits for a beat, “I’ve never thought you were weak.” 

“You’re asking me to blindly trust you, to follow you without question...after you…” There’s no need to finish the sentence, he knows you’re referring to him turning you in. _Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice…._

“To trust you again so easily...that _would_ be weak.” 

His visor is unmoving and again, you find yourself wishing you could see his face, read his expression. His chest moves up and down with each breath but his shoulders remain tense.   
“I’ve done nothing to deserve this. All day you’ve been...cold. The last time you were this icy….I realize now, it’s because you were about to turn me in. Is that what’s happening now?” 

His grip loosens a touch, “No.” 

“Then...why?” 

“I told you, you won’t have to worry about that again. I’ve sworn an oath to keep you safe. I won’t let anyone hurt you again.” 

“Why should I believe you?” 

He inhales and exhales a deep breath. “I never lied to you.“ repeating the words he had said yesterday. 

“No you didn’t. But you let me go on believing... even after…” you leave the words hanging in the air.

“I’m sorry, “ he says surprising you. “ And you’re right...you don’t deserve to be treated like this. His admission takes you aback and eases your anger a degree. His voice...he almost sounds... _ashamed?_

“I’ve been mad... angry with myself. I should never have turned you in in the first place. I guess... I’ve been taking it out on you.” You could understand that. You’ve been beating yourself up too, for getting caught so stupidly in the first place. 

He drops your wrists allowing you to do as you please with them. You leave them to linger against his chest a moment before dropping them once again and taking a step backwards. 

“Look, I’m not mad about that anymore, not really. I get that you were just doing ...a job. But I would be stupid to hand over my trust so easily to the person who collected on my bounty the first time.” 

He sighs, “I only know how to be a hunter, I don’t know how to do...”- he waves between you and him…”this.” 

_This? What is this?_

“You can start by removing these.” you say, holding your wrists up again. 

He considers it for a moment and then extends a hand out, grabbing the cuffs and gently tugs you closer to his chest. You wait on baited breath for him to respond. He continues to stare at you, but his hand taps a sequence on his data pad. The cuffs fall off. 

“Now what?” he asks.

“Now?” you wonder aloud. “Back at the ship, you said we needed to have a conversation, about where we go from here?”

“Yes.”

“Now, we head back to Mos Eisley. You leave the cuffs OFF and I’ll agree to sit down with you for that conversation.” 

He sighs in agreement. “Okay."

"Just one question, " he adds.

You lift your eyebrows and wait. 

“Have you always been _this_ stubborn?”

You can’t help the small smile that forms from hearing his words.   
  


“Well, Miss Biala Den would often accuse me of being stubborn as a child... careful to point out that it was a virtue when I was right…” you smiled, “and a massive character flaw when I was wrong.” 

* * *

Mando takes a moment to reattach his pack and secure his blaster before returning to the bodies of the fallen raiders. He starts rifling through their pockets, searching for something. 

“What are you looking for?”

“A fob.”

“Fob?”

“Yes, it’d be small and have a red blinking light.”

He pulls out a crumpled piece of paper from the Nikto’s front pocket and opens it, scanning the paper. 

“What is it?”

He hands it over to you and continues to check pockets. 

“Looks like our friend over there was a wanted man.” 

You scan the document for the parts written in basic. 

_Biran Redben_

_Human, Male, Age 42,_

_Wanted on charges of Medical Malpractice_

_Sentenced to serve 50 years on Tamazall_

“Medical Malpractice?...ewww.” you cringe. “Do you mean to tell me that guy is a bounty? Do they always fall into your lap this easily?” 

Mando grunts “if only.... His friend here was probably waiting to turn in his comrade.”

“So technically, _you_ could bring him back and collect the bounty?” 

“Not anymore.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“It depends on who issued the bounty. If he’s simply wanted by the New Republic, they may or may not be offering a reward and it may or may not require a live body. If he’s been contracted by The Guild, I’d need to have a puck- a copy of the contract. Without it, I’d be interfering with another hunter’s claim.” 

_Interesting._

“But, none of that matters now.” he says standing up to look at you. 

“I can no longer collect on bounties.”

“What? Why not?”

“Broke the code…..hunted by the guild now...same as you.” 

_Hunted by the guild?_ He had said that of course, earlier before you had left the ship he’d said, “We’re both wanted now.” At the time you were so focused on escaping that you hadn’t really stopped to think about what that meant. _He gave up his place in the guild for me? No, not for me...for what I must be worth. A valuable prize._

"Well, no fobs. That’s a good thing. It means we weren’t being tracked by them. Probably just out here planning a random ambush, or maybe sent out by the palace to track us down after last night.” 

He continues, “The sooner we get out of here, the better.” 

Mando looks around, scanning the surrounding with his visor. _I wonder what it’s telling him?_ He turns back to you. 

“Stay here……I’ll be right back.” he hesitates. His voice drops a bit lower but remains steady. “Don’t….don’t run from me.” This time, it didn’t sound like a warning. This time, it sounded like ... _a plea?_. 

_I won't..._ y _et._

He looks up to the sky, activates his pack and takes off, disappearing over the ridge of the gully’s hillside. You take this moment to backtrack a few steps and find the gold chains and top you were wearing earlier and scoop them up. They are still valuable and perhaps you can trade them for something upon your return to Mos Eisley. You scan the skies, but there is still no sign of Mando, just you and the bodies of three dead guys. _Wait, there were four guys!._ You see the body of the man you now know is Biran Redben laying off in the distance and remember that he had a small dagger or knife. You quickly make your way towards his body, scanning the ground for any sign of the fallen weapon. You really hope he dropped it and it wasn’t on his person. You DID NOT want to have to pick through the pockets of a dead guy the way Mando just had- especially one that had died of impact. 

You creep closer and closer to the body, nerves on high alert. Sure, you know it’s highly unlikely anybody could survive a fall like that, but you’ve read enough horror books to know that the bad guy often springs up to life for one last act of revenge. You're a few yards away and you can see a large pool of blood forming around the body. The dry dirt soaks it up greedily, creating a soggy mud. There, next to the body on the other side, _the knife!_ You creep around, trying to ignore the body. _Don’t look. Don’t look. Don’t look._

You bend down, looking only at the blade and quickly snatch it up. You immediately take a few steps back and away from the body as soon as you feel the knife in your hands. You examine the knife. It’s a bit small for a man his size, but it will do nicely for you. Your grip the hilt, testing it’s comfort in your palm. _It’ll do._ The blade is razor sharp and you can see a small drop of dried blood at the tip. Your hand immediately flies to your neck- to the bottom of your chin. You pull your fingers away and sure enough, you find a small blood smear there. _Bastard!_ You walk back towards the gully, but not before delivering one swift kick to Redben’s ribs. _So what if he’s dead, still deserves it._

You stop when you hear the approaching sound of an engine, distinctly different from what Mando’s pack sounds like. A speeder emerges from around the bend on the other side of the mountain and heads in your direction. You might have panicked, but the reflective surface of Mando’s shiny suit is easily recognizable under the glare of the sun. Little else in this dusty dirt plane would shine and reflect the way he does. 

You tuck the knife into the waistband at your lower back and adjust the cloak so that it drapes around you as Mando brings the speeder to a stop in front of you. 

“You find a speeder just laying around out here?” 

He gives you a huff of amusement. “Figured they didn’t walk.” He says nodding towards the body on the ground. 

“Got room for one more.” he adds. 

You smile and climb onto the back of the speeder, dropping the handful of gold chains into the side pack. It’s a tight fit being a speeder made for one and you’re reminded of your ride together on the blurrg. Mando seems to have already anticipated that because his jetpack is strapped securely to the side of the bike as well. _To allow more room for me?_ You settle into position on the back, your legs straddling the back of his.

“What were you doing way over here?”

“Nothing.” you say.

“Mmm hmmm.” He murmurs, disbelieving. 

You lift the hood of Mando’s cloak up and onto your head and settle your hands loosely at Mando’s sides. 

“Were you kicking a dead guy again?”

You can’t help the burst of laughter that escapes at his correct assumption. 

“He deserved it.” You add.

Mando grabs your hands with his own and pulls them tighter around his waist, hauling you in until your chest is pressed up snugly against his back.

“Yeah, he did.” he says and hits the gas on the speeder bike.


End file.
